*4 


«"f       ". 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


x^.tkl*.*.  /sy^- 


M  ARAII 


PRINTED    BY 

SPOTTISWOODE    AND    CO.,     NEW-STREET    SQUARE 

LONDON 


M    A    R    A    H 


BY 


OWEN    MEREDITH 


SECOND    EDITION 


LONDON 
LONGMANS,     GREEN,     AND     CO. 

AND  NEW  YORK  :  15  EAST  i6">  STREET 
1892 


PREFACE 


These  poems,  written  in  leisure  hours  during  the 
past  and  previous  years,  were  already  in  proof  at 
the  time  of  my  husband's  death,  and  the  last  few 
weeks  of  his  life  were  occupied  in  revising  them.  No 
doubt  they  would  have  received  from  himself  still 
further  correction,  and  he  had  ordered  several  privately 
printed  copies  to  submit  to  the  judgment  of  friends. 
These  did  not  arrive  till  the  day  after  his  death. 

While  each  of  the  poems  is  complete  in  itself,  they 
are  so  arranged  as  to  form  a  connected  whole,  and 
are  meant  to  be  read  consecutively.  My  husband's 
intention  was  to  represent  successive  stages  of  feeling, 
and,  in  accordance  with  this  design,   he  divided  the 


1521250 


vi  MAR  AH 

book    into    four   parts,    each    with  its  corresponding 
motto  prefixed. 

There  was  a  poem  originally  included  in  the  first 
part  which  he  did  not  think  good  enough,  and  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  omit.  The  last  days  of  his 
life  were  spent,  as  if  in  haste,  in  the  composition  of 
another,  to  take  its  place.  This  was  never  finished, 
but  I  give  the  fragment  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  as 
I  found  it  by  his  bedside,  with  the  ink  hardly  dry  on 
the  paper. 

A  longer  and  more  elaborate  poetical  work  is  also 
ready  for  publication,  but  my  husband  contemplated 
publishing  these  shorter  poems  first,  and  they  will,  I 
am  sure,  be  especially  welcomed  by  the  old  faithful 
friends  and  admirers  of  w  Owen  Meredith." 

E.  L. 

March,  1892. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Prologue      i 

I. — Tears  are  Christian,   Kisses  Pagan       .         .     .       4 
•'  That  is  the  question  "     .  .  .  .5 

Hie  incepil  .........       6 

Chi  lo  sa  ? .8 

/If  ....   ? 10 

Telepathy  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .15 

I  It  r  Portrait         .         .         .         .  .         .     .      17 

Defective  Title  .  .21 

Investiture  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .      .      22 

Corroboration  ........     23 

Summer  Night     .         .         .  .  .     .     26 

Away  !     .         .         .         .  .  .         .  .28 

Absence       .  .  .         .  .         .  .  .     .     30 

Waiting    ........ 

Death  ...  .     .     34 


viii  MAR  AH 


PAGE 

II.— I    GAVE    HER    LOVE:    I    GAVE    HER    FAITH,    &C.            .  40 

Experientia  docet  ?       .         .         .         •         •         .     .  41 

Omens  and  Oracles  ....-•■  44 

Idolatry 46 

Antagonisms    ........  48 

Amari  Aliquid      .          .          .          .          .          .          .      .  50 

Ars  Amoris       .          .          .          .          .          .          .          ■  51 

Marah's  Dower    .         .         .         .         .         .  54 

Rubies  and  Pearls     .         .         .         .  .         .         -55 

Dreams        .         .         «         .         .         .         .  5^ 

Figures  of  Speech     .......  67 

The  Only  Difference 69 

One  Rose          ........  70 

By  the  Gates  of  Hell 71 

When  all  is  over       .......  73 


CONTENTS  ix 


PAGE 

III.  — If  thou  art  still  a,  griefless  girl  or  boy  78 

Life 79 

Semper  eadem         .......  80 

Firelight 82 

Ghosts 84 

Nunc  stans         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     .  87 

Perversity       ........  89 

Haunted    .........  90 

Episode           ........  92 

Lies  ..........  94 

Love's  Labour  Lost         ......  98 

Horace  and  Lydia  (Modern)        .....  100 

Fugiens  Imago         .  .  .  .  .  .  .110 

Still  i 114 

Selene    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .116 

Travelling  Acquaintance     .         .         .         .  122 


MA  RAH 

PAGE 
IV.  —  I    HAVE   SEARCH'D   THE    UNIVERSE,    &C.  •  .       I32 

Seaward     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  i 


Nocturn  ........     135 

Oceanus    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     .      137 

A  Lost  Chance        .......      143 

Saturnalia.         ........      146 

Perturbation 153 

Storm 157 

Diminuendo  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .164 

Moonland.         .         .         .         .         .         .         .     .     166 

Selenites         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .172 

Somnium  Belluinum  .......     175 

Epilogue     .        .        .        .        .        .         .        .         .187 

Appendix — Lord  Lytton's  last  Poem        .        .     .     193 


PROLOGUE 


Lured  by  the  promise  of  a  better  land, 
They  wander'd  in  the  wilderness  of  Shur  ; 

Vagrants,  from  bondage  fled,  a  weary  band, 
Whose  weariness  each  day  made  wearier  ; 

And  waterless  was  all  the  desert  sand, 
No  wells  at  hand  ! 


A  place  at  last  they  reach'd,  in  sore  distress, 
Where  water  fiow'd,  but  from  a  bitter  spring. 

Then  cried  they,  "  Here  we  die  of  thirst,  unless 
<  rod  turn  this  bitter  sweet  !  "     And,  murmuring. 

They  call'd  it  Marah.     Nor  can  speech  express 
More  bitterness. 


*  2 


Tears  are  Christian,  kisses  Pagan.     Love  is  both,  and  each 

his  prize. 
On  his  lips  are  Pagan  kisses,  Christian  tears  are  in  his  eyes, 


Magdalens  with  Moenads  mingle  in  his  rites,  and  round  his 

way 
Intertwine  the  rose  of  Paphos  with  the  thorns  of  Golgotha. 


Thorn  or  rose,  which  best  becomes  him  ?     Both  his  loveliness 

endears  : 
Roses  red  with   Pagan  kisses,  thorns  bedew'd  with  Christian 

tears  ! 


"THAT  IS   THE    QUESTION" 


One  ask'd  me  suddenly  if  I  thought  her  fair  ; 

And  then,  for  the  first  time,  I  felt,  "How  dull 
These  eyes,  that  have  so  long  been  unaware 

Whether  she  is,  or  is  not,  beautiful  !  " 


But  I  have  had  no  time  to  find  that  out, 

Nor  thought  to  spare  to  it  from  days  all  pass'd 

In  one  continual  fluctuating  doubt 

Whether  she  loves  me  yet,  or  will  at  last. 


MAR  AH 


HIC  INCEPIT 


Something  wild  as  the  heart  of  a  boy 
(But  what  is  it?)  awakens  in  me, 

Like  the  love  of  a  love,  and  the  joy 
Of  a  joy,  that  are  going  to  be  ; 


Or  the  nebulous  beam  in  the  breast 
Of  a  mist  the  moon  brightens  behind  ; 

A  prediction  that  does  but  suggest 
A  fulfilment  it  leaves  undefin'd. 


HIC   INCEPIT 

3 

It  was  born  of  a  breath  and  a  dream, 
"lis  the  soul  of  a  look  or  a  tone, 

And  the  parent  of  pleasures  that  seem 
But  as  preludes  to  others  unknown. 

4 
\  et  how  soon  could  its  sweetness  be  kill'd 

By  the  pang  of  a  premature  bliss, 
And  so  die  of  a  promise  fulfill'd 

On  the  lips  I  am  longing  to  kiss  ! 


MA  RAH 


CHI  LO  SA  ? 

i 

Prithee  tell  me,  Sweet,  how  shall  I  ever 

Have  deserved  thee  ?     What  trials,  what  tears, 

What  renewals  of  daily  endeavour, 

What  endurance  of  sorrowful  years, 

May  bear  witness  how  well  I  have  loved  thee, 

And  establish  my  claim  to  thy  heart  ? 

Or  when  long  thou  hast  tried  me  and  proved  me, 

Will  it  be  but  to  bid  me  depart  ? 

Ah,  could  love  be  obtain'd  for  love's  sake  ! 

But  the  gift  is  bestow 'd,  and  not  owed, 

Nor  can  worth  any  claim  to  it  make. 

For  the  blessing  of  love  is  a  boon  from  above 

And  no  heed  of  desert  doth  it  take. 


CHI  LO  SA  ? 


Blowing  tree,  the  full  blossoms  that  bend  thee 

May  be  all  of  them  promises  vain  ! 

Who  can  say  whether  heaven  will  yet  send  the< 

The  good  chance  of  its  ripening  rain  ? 

( lowing  heart,  the  fond  dreams  that  possess  thee 

May  be  all  lying  prophets  at  best  ! 

Who  can  say  if  "she  ever  will  bless  thee 

With  one  moment  of  bliss  on  her  breast? 

Ah,  could  love  be  obtain'd  for  love's  sake  ! 

F.ut  'tis  purchased  by  none,  nor  yet  won, 

Tho1  to  win  it  life's  all  be  the  stake. 

!   iv  the  blessing  of  love  is  a  boon  from  above, 

And  no  heed  of  desert  doth  it  take. 


ICJ  MAR  AH 


IF 


So  you  but  love  me,  be  it  your  own  way, 

In  your  own  time,  no  sooner  than  you  will, 
No  warmer  than  you  would  from  day  to  day, 
But  love  me  still  ! 


Each  day  that  still  you  love  me  seems  to  me 

A  little  fairer  than  the  day  before. 
For,  daily  given,  love's  least  must  daily  be 
A  little  more. 


IF  ...     ?  ii 

3 
And  be  my  most  gain'd  your  least  given,  if  such 

Your  sweet  will  be  !     I  reckon  not  the  cost, 
Xor  count  the  gain,  by  little  or  by  much, 
Or  least  or  most. 

4 
Little  or  much,  to  me  the  gift  I  crave 

Is  all  in  all.     There  is  not  any  measure 
Of  more  or  less  can  gauge  the  need  I  have 
Of  that  dear  treasure. 

5 
So  you  but  love  me,  tho'  your  love  be  cold, 

\1  ine  it  can  chill  not.  Tho'  your  love  come  late, 
Mine  for  its  coming,  by  sweet  dreams  foretold. 
Will  dreaming  wait. 


j  2  MA  RAH 

6 

Yet  ah,  if  some  far  chance,  before  I  die, 

One  hour  of  waking  life  might  let  me  live, 
Rich  with  the  dream'd-of  dear  reality 
Tis  yours  to  give  ! 

7 
Your  whole  sweet  self,  with  your  sweet  self  s  whole 

love  ! 
Those  eyes  of  fire  and  dew,  those  lips  wish-haunted, 
Those  feet  whose  steps  like  elfin  music  move 
Thro'  worlds  enchanted  ! 

8 

Your  whole  sweet  self!     The  unutter'd  thoughts  that 
stir 
Your  lonest  musings  with  light  wings  unheard, 
And  feelings  that  find  no  interpreter 
In  deed  or  word  ! 


IF  ...   .1  13 

9 
Your  whole  sweet  self,  that,  till  by  love  reveal'd, 
Even  to  yourself  still  half  unknown  must  be  ! 
For  of  the  wealth  in  souls  like  yours  conceal'd 
Love  keeps  the  key. 

10 

Ah,  if  your  whole  sweet  self,  by  all  the  power 

Of  your  sweet  selfs  whole  love  in  some  divine 
Far  distant  hour  made  wholly  yours,  that  hour 
Made  wholly  mine, 

11 

And  if  in  that  blest  hour  all  dreams  came  true, 

All  doubts  dissolv'd,  all  fears  were  whirl'd  away 
In  one  wild  storm  of  tendernesses  new 
As  time's  first  day, 


i4  MARAH 

12 

What  should  we  both  be  ?     Hush  !  I  do  not  dare 

Even  to  hear  my  own  heart's  whisper  utter'd. 
Be  its  sole  answerer  the  silent  air 
This  sigh  has  flutter'd  ! 


TELEPATHY 


Last  night  we  met,  where  others  meet, 

To  part  as  others  part ; 
And  greeted  but  as  others  greet, 

Who  greet  not  heart  to  heart  ; 


We  talk'd  of  other  things,  and  then 

To  other  folk  pass'd  by  ; 
You  turn'd  and  sat  with  other  men  : 

With  other  women,  I. 


i 6  MAR AH 

3 

And  yet  a  world  of  things  unsaid 
Meanwhile  between  us  pass'd  ; 

Your  cheek  my  phantom  kiss  flush'd  red, 
And  you  look'd  up  at  last ; 

4 

And  then  your  glance  met  mine  midway 
Across  the  chattering  crowd  ; 

And  all  that  heart  to  heart  can  say 
Was  in  that  glance  avow'd 


17 


HER   PORTRAIT 


Her  form  has  the  mingled  grace 
Of  a  child  and  a  queen  in  one. 
There  is  pride  in  her  pure  young  face, 
In  her  voice  is  a  far-off  tone, 
And  her  eyes  have  the  gaze  of  a  forest  creature 
That  has  lived  in  the  woods  alone. 


A  creature  whose  steps  are  light 

As  the  leaflets  brusht  by  its  brow. 

When  'tis  stay'd  in  its  buoyant  flight 

By  the  sound  of  a  rustling  bough. 

And,  suddenly  motionless,  looks  and  list* 

As  she  looks  and  is  listening  now 


i8  MARAH 

3 

But  a  young  queen,  too,  she  looks. 

And  I  think  that  a  woodland  doe, 
If  transform'd,  as  in  fairy  books, 
By  the  magic  of  long  ago 
To  a  mystical,  milk-white,  maiden  princess 
Would  listen  and  look  just  so. 

4 

Her  summers,  at  most  nineteen, 
Are  yet  short  of  a  single  score  ; 

Twice  as  much  has  the  number  been 
( )f  my  winters,  and  something  more  ; 
And  my  knowledge  of  life  is  a  cramm'd  museum, 
Hers  only  an  infant's  store. 

5 
Yet  I  see  but  thro'  her  wild  eyes, 

And  my  thoughts  are  whatever  she  thinks  ; 


HER  PORTRAIT  19 

If  she  praises,  I  feel  I  am  wise  ; 

If  she  censures,  my  confidence  sinks  ; 
And,  as  judged  by  the  least  of  her  looks  and  glances. 
My  spirit  expands  or  shrinks. 

6 

I  have  faced  the  world  in  my  day, 

And  have  fought  it  and  overthrown  ; 
I  have  struggled  and  won  my  way, 
And  no  rival  has  beaten  me  down  ; 
Yet  my  courage  fails,  and  my  whole  frame  falters, 
If  she  chances  to  chide  or  frown. 

7 
Her  light  little  step  outstrips 

My  stride,  to  ascents  sublime  ; 

Hid  in  shadows  that  haunt  her  lips 

Are  the  secrets  of  space  and  time  ; 

And,  attuned  to  the  music  around  her  moving, 

The  stars  in  their  courses  chime. 

2 


20  MARAH 

8 
She  has  read  not  the  tedious  tale 

Of  the  dead  world's  grief  and  glee. 
Nor  been  stirr'd  by  the  shrill  birth-wail 
Of  the  ages  beginning  to  be  ; 
But  she  carries  secure  at  her  simple  girdle 
The  Infinite's  golden  key. 

9 

I  have  gather'd  what  life  can  give, 

With  the  prizes  its  pains  confer; 
Yet  for  naught  do  I  care  to  live 
But  to  love  and  be  loved  by  her. 
Fate,  grant  me  but  this,  and  all  gains  and  glori< 
I  surrender  without  demur  ! 


21 


DEFECTIVE    TITLE 


Mine,  and  mine  only,  and  all  mine, 
Spirit  and  flesh,  and  brain  and  heart, 

By  right  of  birth,  and  right  divine, 
And  every  right  but  one,  thou  art 


But,  wanting  that  one  right,  I  know 
The  rest  are  wrongs  without  redress. 

Ah  child,  a  kingless  kingdom  thou, 
And  I  a  king  that's  kingdomless 


22  MARAH 


INVESTITURE 


Kingdomless?     No!     For  infinite 
The  kingdom  is,  thro'  thee  made  mine  ; 

And  there  I  reign  by  royal  right 
Sole  lord  of  regions  all  divine. 


Nor  kingless  thou,  whose  monarch  crown'd 
And  robed  am  I,  in  realms  afar, 

Fairer  than  all  that  here  are  found 
On  earth.     For  not  of  earth  they  are 


23 


CORROBORATION' 


Is  it  the  echo  of  a  word. 

Whose  lingering  tones  betoken 

I  dream'd  it  not,  but  really  heard  ? 
And  was  it  sung,  or  spoken  ? 

2 
Some  great  good  news  has  come  to  me, 

I  know.      But  who  averr'd  it? 
And  it  is  true?     And  was  it  she 

That  whisper'd,  1  that  heard,  it  ? 


24  MARAH 

3 

So  light  that  whisper  fell,  methought 
No  sense  but  mine  it  flutter'd. 

What  tell-tale  Spirit  can  have  caught 
A  sound  so  softly  utter'd, 

4 
And  spread  the  message  wide,  and  told 

The  gathering  stars  to  greet  it 
With  signals  flash'd  from  shafts  of  gold. 

The  sea-waves  to  repeat  it, 

5 
The  woods  its  influence  to  attest, 

And  the  soft  winds  that  heave  them  ? 
They  all  assure  me  I  am  blest, 

And  I  must  needs  believe  them. 


CORROBORA  TION 


Stars,  waves,  and  woods,  and  winds,  no  fear 

Have  I  lest  you  be  lying, 
For  to  your  tale  my  heart  can  hear 

The  harps  of  Heaven  replying. 


26  MARAH 


SUMMER  NIGHT 


The  summer  night  fills  heaven's  remotest  spheres 

With  stars  and  meteors.     And  with  fluttering  fires 
My  heart's  thrill'd  deeps  are  throng'd  by  radiant  tears 


And  bright  desires. 


Heaven  and  my  heart  these  summer  glories  share. 

Nor  ever,  since  Latona  brought  to  birth 
The  first  New  Moon,  has  summer  night  so  fair 
Bless'd  heaven  and  earth. 


SUMMER  NIGHT 


Heaven's  own  the  stars  are,  and  the  meteors  :  mine 

The  tears  and  the  desires,  that  meteors  are 
And  stars  of  another  heaven,  no  less  divine, 
Tho'  not  so  far. 

4 
J  ears  into  stars  distill'd  from  that  delight 

The  nightingale  to  the  sweet  silence  sings  ! 
Desires  that  roam  love's  fervid  infinite 
On  flaming  wings, 

5 
The  meteor-pulses  of  its  palpitant  blue  ! 

And  tears,  desires,  and  stars,  the  night  and  I. 
All,  all,  are  tremulous  with  thoughts  of  you, 
Each  thought  a  joy  ! 


28  MARAH 


A  WA  Y  ! 


Come  away,  love  !  With  me,  love,  away  ! 

Far  away  from  the  world  that  we  know, 
Far  from  all  we  have  done  till  to-day, 

And  from  all  we  have  been  until  now 
Far  away  ! 


Set  impassable  distance  between 

AH  that  was  and  that  is  !     And  let  naught 
Be  remember'd,  heard,  spoken,  or  seen 

That  can  ever  remind  us  of  aught 
That  has  been  ! 


AWAY!  29 

3 

Of  the  past  ever}'  vestige  efface. 

With  its  doings,  whatever  they  were  ! 

Of  each  circumstance,  person,  and  place 
That  have  been  its  accomplices,  spaa- 
Not  a  trace  ! 

4 

And  discard  with  the  days  that  are  done 
All  their  cumbrous  caparisonings  ! 

Of  old  habitudes  need  have  we  none, 
Who  have  only  to  spread  out  our  wings 
And  be  gone. 

5 
but  wherever  they  bear  us  aw 

B(    it  far  from  the  world  that  we  know  ! 

Far  from  all  we  have  done  till  to-day, 

And  from  all  we  have  been  until  now 
Far  away  ! 


3° 


MAKAH 


ABSENCE 


Not  in  my  life,  but  yours,  I  live ; 

And  from  myself  I  seem  to  be 
As  far  away,  dear  fugitive, 

As  you  are  far  from  me. 


Unlit  by  you,  no  light  have  I, 

A  fainting  lamp  that's  fed  by  none  ! 

The  earth  seems  left  without  a  sky, 
The  sky  without  a  sun. 


ABSENCE  31 

3 
Come  back  !  come  back  !     And  with  you  bring 

All  that  with  you  is  gone  away, 
Warmth,  light,  life,  love,  and  everything 

That  stays  but  where  you  stay  ! 


32  MARAH 


WAITING 


The  years  that  are  before  us  still 

May  to  our  lives  allot 
Mischance  of  many  a  kind,  and  fill 
Time's  empty  lap  with  many  an  ill. 

That  thought  affrights  me  not. 


But  six  short  weeks  are  still  to  pass 

Before  the  long'd-for  day 
That  brings  her  back  ;  and  these,  alas 
If  these  go  wrong  ?     The  future  has 

For  me  no  worse  dismay. 


WAITING 

3 

Only  six  weeks  !     But  each  contains 

How  many  perilous  hours  ! 
Each  hour  how  many  possible  pains, 
How  many  risks  !     What  blights  and  banes  ' 

To  dread  from  unknown  Powers  ! 

4 
With  her,  no  fears  my  heart  appal, 

Tho'  life  with  ills  be  throng'd  : 
Without  her,  no  mischance  so  small 
But  it  may  prove  the  worst  of  all, 

Absence  from  her  prolong'd  ! 

5 
I  dread  not  foes  that  love  may  find 

Along  the  distant  track 
Of  future  years.     But  O,  be  kind, 
You  Powers  that  now  rule  wave  and  wind, 

And  bring  her  safely  back  ! 

D 


34  MARAH 


DEATH 

She  came  not  back.     She  will  not  come  again  ; 
And  I  shall  never  any  more  behold 
Her  dear,  dear  face.     But  absence  was  worse  pain 
Than  death  is  now  that  Memory  keeps  safe  hold 
Of  all  Hope  miss'd.     A  pure  dawn  to  the  last 
Our  love  was,  and  no  change  can  cloud  it  now. 
Here  on  thy  grave  in  the  eternal  past, 
Heart  of  my  heart,  these  fading  flowers  I  strow. 
Here  let  them  perish  !     From  their  fate  secure, 
Thou,  where  they  blossom'd,  deep  in  my  dream-life 
(Death's  changeless  charm  all  thine)  dost  still  endure 
Undying.     More  to  me  than  bride  or  wife, 
Heaven's  revelation  thou  remainest,  seen 
First  in  the  wish'd  for  future,  now  seen  best 


DEA  TH  35 

In  the  saved  past,  of  love  that  might  have  been 

Less  beautiful  if  earth  had  once  possess'd 

Its  beauty.     Memory,  that  makes  thee  mine, 

Is  quieter  than  Hope,  and  happier  too. 

Safe  are  the  treasures  of  her  sober  shrine, 

And  even  her  sweetest  oracles  are  true. 

Ah,  dearest  !     Thou  and  Death  have  given  me  all 

The  blessing  of  a  past  where  Memory  finds 

Nothing  she  is  not  thankful  to  recall — 

No  pain,  no  bitterness,  no  tear  that  blinds, 

No  word  that  wounds  !    Life  might  have  marr'd  all  this, 

And  spoilt  the  sweetness  Death  perpetuates. 

Now,  all  that  was,  unmix'd  with  all  that  is, 

Remains  itself,  and  perfect.     The  harsh  Fates, 

That  menace  all  things  happy,  from  my  heart 

Thy  truth  can  turn  not,  nor  thy  love  estrange. 

Far,  far,  beloved,  beyond  my  reach  thou  art, 

But  also  far  beyond  the  reach  of  change  ! 

D  2 


36  MA  RAH 

Safe  from  the  years  and  sorrows  come  and  gone 

Since  thou  didst  go,  who  never  back  wilt  come, 

Where  is  thy  home  now,  unreturning  one  ? 

Has  the  soul  anywhere  a  stable  home  ? 

Shall  I  rejoin  thee  ever  ?    Shall  we  meet 

Once  more,  beyond  the  dark  and  narrow  gate 

Now  shut  between  us  ?     Or  does  life  still  fleet 

Forever  onward,  still  importunate, 

And  still  unpacified,  from  sphere  to  sphere, 

In  unreposing  progress  to  no  goal  ? 

So  that  the  bliss  beyond  us  speeding  here 

Shall  still  beyond  us  speed  throughout  the  whole 

Vast  cycle  of  infinity,  and  thou 

A  bliss  beyond  me  still  forever  be  ? 

I  know  not.     But  no  Heaven  exists,  I  know, 

That  I  can  gain  without  regaining  thee. 

And  if  this  sense  of  self,  wherein  we  place 

Life's  purpose,  be  no  more  than  the  brief  play 


DEATH  37 

Of  combinations  that  in  boundless  space 
And  endless  time  shall  be  dissolved  away 
Into  the  universal  consciousness, 
Whence  for  a  while  it  separates  us  here, 
Thy  soul  to  mine  has  granted  none  the  less 
Some  earthly  foretaste  of  a  heavenlier  sphere  ; 
With  this  much  gain'd — that  here  a  love  so  fair, 
So  finely  wrought,  so  sensitive  as  ours, 
Wither'd  not,  nor  grew  coarse,  in  that  bad  air 
Which  brings  to  blossom  none  but  poison-flowers. 

Safe-hidden,  undiscover'd,  undefiled 

In  the  still  past,  on  thy  pure  grave  I  write 

No  name,  no  date.     And  here  may  roses  wild 

With  their  ungather'd  growths  conceal  it  quite  ! 

So  shall  no  curious  gossips  guess  the  way 

My  secret  footsteps  find,  escaping  oft 

From  life's  loud  throngs,  when  here  at  fall  of  day 

They  steal  in  silence  thro'  the  twilight  soft. 


II 


I  gave  her  love  :  I  gave  her  faith  and  truth  : 

I  gave  her  adoration,  vassalage, 
And  tribute  of  life's  best :  the  dreams  of  youth, 

The  deeds  of  manhood,  and  the  stores  of  age 


She  took  my  gifts,  and  turn'd  them  into  pain. 

Each  gift  she  made  a  bitter  curse  to  be, 
Then,  marr'd,  she  gave  them  back  to  me  again. 

And  this  is  all  she  ever  gave  to  me. 


41 


EXPERIENTIA   D0CET1 

i 

Vain  is  the  experience  of  the  past 
To  guide  their  steps  who  rove, 

By  ways  each  different  from  the  last, 
The  labyrinths  of  Love  ! 

2 
For  no  new  movements  of  the  heart 

Reiterate  the  old, 
Nor  has  their  tale  its  counterpart 

In  those  by  Memory  told. 


42 


MARAH 

3 

The  records  of  the  pilgrimage 

Of  passion  are  impress'd 
Each  on  the  renovated  page 

Of  a  blanch'd  palimpsest. 

4 
To  mock  the  faith  that  lovers  place 

In  life's  acquir'd  love-lore, 
New  lessons,  latest  learn'd,  efface 

Old  teachings  taught  before. 

5 
And  we  ourselves  within  us  bear, 

Tho'  to  ourselves  unknown, 
New  lives,  that  with  new  longings  wear, 

New  features  of  their  own. 


EXPERIENTIA   DOCET?  43 


Thus  every  love  is,  of  its  kind, 
A  first  love  and  a  last ; 

And  every  time  we  love,  we  find 
That  love  has  had  no  past. 


44  MAR  AH 


OMENS  AND   ORACLES 


All  the  phantoms  of  the  future,  all  the  spectres  of 
the  past, 
In   the   wakeful   night   came   round  me,    sighing, 
crying,  "  Fool,  beware  ! 
Check  the  feeling  o'er  thee  stealing  !    Let  thy  first  love 
be  thy  last  ! 
Or,  if  love  again  thou  must,  at  least  this  fatal  love 
forbear  !  " 

Mar  ah  Amara  ! 


OMENS  AND    ORACLES  45 


Now  the  dark  breaks.     Now  the  lark  wakes.     Now 
their  voices  fleet  away. 
And  the  breeze  about  the  blossom,  and  the  ripple 
in  the  reed, 
And  the  beams,  and  buds,  and  birds  begin  to  whisper, 
sing,  or  say, 
"  Love  her,  love  her,  for  she  loves  thee  !  "     And  I 
know  not  which  to  heed. 

Car  a  Amaru  .' 


46  MA  RAH 


IDOLATRY 


To  love  is  to  create,  down  here  below, 

A  god  on  earth  ;  and  for  that  god  do  even 

More  than  his  earthly  worshipper  can  do 
For  the  great  God  in  Heaven. 


But,  since  naught  perfect  is  on  earth,  and  none 
Entirely  good,  the  god  on  earth  created 

Is  but  a  half-divine,  half-devilish  one  ; 
A  god  half  loved,  half  hated. 


IDOLA  TR  Y  47 

3 
Half  loved,  half  hated,  but  so  all  adored 

That  for  its  favour  nothing  seems  a  price 
Too  great ;  not  even  life  lost  and  blood  pour'd 

In  human  sacrifice. 

4 
And  all  ungrudged,  for  this  god's  worshipt  sake, 

His  heart's  blood  drop  by  drop  the  adorer  gives 
His  life's  life  hour  by  hour  ;  nor  shrinks  to  break 

The  heart  of  other  lives. 


48  MARAH 


ANTAGONISMS 


Ah,  who  can  reconcile  the  Brain  and  Heart  ? 

Reason  and  Passion?    Thought  and  Sentiment? 
Genius  and  Woman  ?     Far  they  tend  apart, 

And  only  meet  in  terrible  dissent. 


Genius,  sufficing  to  itself,  abounds 
In  its  own  being.     Love  can  but  fulfil 

Its  being  in  another.     Woman  founds 
Her  power  upon  the  ruins  of  Man's  will. 


ANTAGONISMS  49 


The  love  she  gives  him  costs  a  kingdom's  price, 
Tho'  freely  given  the  gift.     It  takes  away 

His  grandeur  from  him.     And  that  sacrifice 
She  neither  understands,  nor  can  repay. 


< 


50  MA  RAH 


AMARI  ALIQUID 


Dearest,  our  love  is  perfect,  as  love  goes  ! 

Your  kisses  fill  my  frame  and  fire  my  blood  ; 
And  nothing  fails  the  sweetness  each  bestows, 

Except  the  joy  of  being  understood. 


If,  for  one  single  moment,  once  alone, 
And  in  no  more  than  one  thing  only,  this 

Moreover  only  the  most  trivial  one, 

You  could  but  understand  me — ah,  the  bliss  ! 


5i 


ARS  AMORIS 


The  world  has  tangled  in  its  web  Love's  wings, 

And  to  the  captive  god  no  freedom  grants. 
Mix'd  with  material  marketable  things 
And  social  wants, 


Throughout  the  struggling  ranks  of  .Modern  Lift 

Love  has  become  a  means  of  livelihood  : 
Matter  for  bargain  keen,  or  envious  strife, 
Like  clothes  and  food. 


E  2 


52  MARAH 

3 

And  what  the  Modern  Man  and  Woman  try 

To  find  in  love,  or  by  its  means  acquire, 
Is  comfort,  wealth,  respectability, 
A  step  set  higher 

4 
On  life's  throng'd  social  ladder.     Nay,  even  less 

A  luxury,  a  vanity,  a  mode, 
An  attitude,  a  pastime,  a  small  cess 
To  Custom  owed  ! 

5 
Whate'er  the  gain  by  these  from  love  expected, 

Whether  its  acquisition  be  in  pelf 
Or  pleasure,  it  is  wholly  unconnected 
With  love  itself. 


ARS  A  MORIS  53 


For  'tis  not  love  they  love,  but  life  provided 

With  what  they  deem  love  capable  of  giving  ;• 
And,  in  the  act  of  loving,  each  is  guided 
By  the  art  of  living. 

7 
Therefore,  O  Love,  because  to  all  life's  plans 

And  projects  some  promotion  thou  impartest, 
Thou  still  hast  many  zealous  artisans, 
Tho'  not  one  artist. 


54  MARAH 


MARAH'S  DOWER 

Two  Muses  Marah's  dower  supply, 
And  each  a  gift  bestows  : 

For  all  her  looks  are  Poetry, 
And  all  her  feelings  Prose. 


55 


RUBIES  AND   PEARLS 

i 

All  I  had  to  give,  I  gave  her.     First  my  kisses,  then 
my  tears. 
But  the  little  one  would  have  them  not.     "  What 
use  are  they  ?  "  she  said. 
Sad,  I  went  away,  and  dwelt  among  the  tombs,  wh< 
days  are  years, 
With  the  Witch  that  gathers  herbs  there,  and  her 
children  who  are  dead. 

2 
They  and  I  became  companions  ;     and  their  dusty 
shrouds  were  wet 
With  my  flowing  tears,  and  warm  beneath  my  kiss 
their  white  lips  burn'd, 


56  MAR  AH 

Till    the     Witch,    whose    graveyard-gatherings    rare 
miracles  beget, 
Wrought  my  kisses  into  rubies,  and  my  tears  to 
pearls  she  turn'd. 

3 

But  she  drain'd  into  each  ruby's  heart  from  mine  a 
drop  of  blood, 
And  a  purity  my  spirit  lost  with  every  pearl  that  fell. 
Then  she  laugh'd,  "  Good  pearls  thy  tears  are  now, 
thy  kisses  rubies  good, 
And   the  proper  use  of  precious  stones  thy  little 
one  knows  well.'' 

* 

4 
So  I  took  my  pearls  and  rubies  to  the  little  one  I  love, 
She  that  loves  me  not.     And,  when  her  pretty  eyes 
beheld  them,  wild 


RUBIES  AND  PEARLS  57 

Beat  her  little  heart  with  eagerness  its  pride  in  them 
to  prove, 
And  she  kiss'd  and  kiss'd  me,   weeping  tears  of 
pleasure  like  a  child. 

5 
Still  she  wears  them,  still  she  shows  them  to  her  lovers 
with  delight. 
And  her  little  heart  would  break,  I  think,  if  one  of 
them  were  lost  ; 
For  the   sweetest  of  its  pleasures  is  the  envy  they 
excite, 
And  'tis  spoilt  by  no  suspicion  of  the  price  that  they 
have  cost. 


5S  MA  RAH 


DREAMS 


A  land  of  luminous  azure,  glowing  green, 

And  purple,  and  roseate  gold,  fill'd  everywhere 

With  fervid  colour  and  light ;  and  all  things  seen 
Clear  thro'  a  lucid  calm  of  cloudless  air  : 


The  rippled  sapphires  of  a  summer  sea, 
Steep'd  in  the  sunshine  of  a  southern  sky, 

AVashing  warm  bowery  bays  where  tree  to  tree 
Loose  roses  link'd  with  labyrinthine  tie  : 


DREAMS  59 


Among  them  glimmer'd  many  a  statued  flight 
Of  marble  stairs,  beneath  the  twinkling  gloss 

Of  blossom-laden  boughs  :  and  streams  shone  white, 
Streaking  green  glens  faint  rainbows  roof 'd  across  : 

4 
Seaward  on  sunny  slopes  a  little  town 

Sparkled  with  terraced  streets,  where  all  day  long 
A  glad-faced  folk  went  sauntering  up  and  down, 

Whose  talk  was  tuned  to  some  soft  foreign  tongue : 

s 

Foreign,  at  least,  their  tongue  to  me  and  you  ; 

For  you  and  I,  dropp'd  who  knows  how  down  here, 
Were  strangers  from  afar  ;  and  so  we  two 

To  one  another  had  grown  strangely  near. 


60  MARAH 

6 

All  this  I  dream'd.     Then  woke,  and  with  dim  gaze 
Saw,  thro'  the  window-curtains  half  withdrawn, 

Wan  street-lamps  film'd  beneath  a  frozen  haze, 
And  snow-flakes  falling  in  the  wintry  dawn. 

7 
And  all  at  once,  with  a  recurrent  pain, 

I  realised  how  far  away  you  were, 
How  near  at  hand  my  troubles  !     And  then  again 
I    slept,   and   dream'd.     Ah,   what  a  change  was 
there  ! 

8 

Nor  sea  nor  land  this  time.     No  nature.     All 
Was  artificial.     For  I  stood,  methought, 

In  a  vast  house  of  many  mansions  :  hall 

Succeeding  hall  :  huge  chambers,  richly  wrought, 


DREAMS  6 1 

9 

In  clear  communication  each  with  each, 
Thro'  multitudes  of  doors  set  open  wide, 

And  lit  by  windows  so  far  out  of  reach 
That  they  reveai'd  not  anything  outside. 

10 

Around  me,  here  and  there,  and  to  and  fro, 

A  wistful  crowd  continually  went. 
I  knew  them  not.     Nor  did  they  seem  to  know 

Each  other.     All  were  silent  :  each  intent 

n 

On  his  own  business,  or  his  own  design. 

No  care  had  I  to  guess  what  that  might  be  ; 
For  I  was  equally  intent  on  mine, 

1  [eedless  of  others  as  they  were  of  me. 


62  MARAH 


12 


And  conscious  all  the  while,  I  knew  not  how, 

That  somewhere  in  this  house,  among  that  crowd, 

I  was  to  find  you  ;  tho'  no  sign  to  show 
Where  was  vouchsaf ' d  me,  and  no  guide  allow'd. 


So,  on,  through  those  innumerable  doors, 
Door  after  door,  in  search  of  you  I  pass'd, 

And  over  those  interminable  floors, 

Floor  after  floor,  with  steps  that  hasten'd  fast, 

And  fiercely  beating  heart.     But  nowhere  you, 
Nor  any  trace  of  you  !     And  time  went  by, 

The  light  began  to  fail,  my  courage  too, 
And  then  I  noticed  all  were  gone  but  I. 


DREAMS  63 

15 
Gone  !     By  what  means?     Impossible  to  guess  ! 

For  go,  I  could  not.     Each  room  only  led 
Into  another  room.     A  wilderness 

Of  rooms  and  rooms  on  all  sides  round  me  spread! 

16 

I     deep  discouragement  succeeded  fear — 

A  fear  lest  I  forever  should  remain 
Wandering  about  in  that  mad  maze  of  drear 

And  darkening  halls  !     I  knew  my  search  was  vain 

And  that  I  should  not  ever  find  you  there. 

My  one  thought  was  to  get  away — get  back 
To  the  outer  world,  and  nature,  and  fresh  air. 

Vain  thought !  The  night,  that  crept  upon  my  track, 


64  MARAH 

iS 

Was  bringing  with  it  who  could  say  what  strange 
New  horror  ?     And  still  wandering,  still  astray, 

I  roam'd  and  roam'd  that  never-ending  range 

Of  rooms  and  rooms,  whence  still  there  was  no  way. 

Door  after  door  I  tried.     No  door  was  shut. 

But  door  to  door  succeeded,  hall  to  hall. 
None  to  my  flight  did  any  barrier  put, 

But  egress  was  in  turn  denied  by  all. 

20 

I  turn'd,  despairing,  to  the  windows.     These 
Might  favour  flight,  I  hoped,  if  once  attain'd. 

But  no  !     For  they  receded  by  degrees 
As  I  advanced,  and  out  of  reach  remain'd. 


DREAMS  65 


21 


At  last  I  noticed,  close  at  hand,  what  seem'd 

A  shut  door  in  the  wall.     And  "  Here,  perchance, 

From  this  bewildering  labyrinth,"  I  deem'd, 
"  May  be  some  means  for  my  deliverance  ! " 

22 

I  push'd  the  latchet,  hope  with  fear  and  doubt 
Contending.     The  door  open'd.     From  the  shelf 

Of  some  dark  cupboard  it  disclosed,  sprang  out 
A  corpse.     I  knew  it.     'Twas  my  own  dead  Self. 

And  my  dead  Self  pursued  me.     Fast  I  fled. 

But  fast  it  foliow'd.     Its  sepulchral  breath 
Clung  like  a  cloud  about  me.     It  was  dead, 

And  yet  unnaturally  alive  in  death. 


66  MA  RAH 

24 
The  horror  and  the  terror  of  it  grew 

Until  they  reach'd  the  point  of  madness.     Then 
The  whole  wild  vision  from  my  sense  withdrew, 

And,  spent  and  faint,  I  lay  awake  again ; 

25 
But  still  in  fear  lest  on  me  sleep  should  glide, 

And  again  fix  me  with  its  ghostly  fetter, 
A  doubting  hand  I  stretch'd  to  the  bedside, 

And  there  I  found  (thrice  woe  is  me  !)  your  letter. 

26 
Your  dreadful  letter,  with  its  heartless  words  ! 

A  trance  my  life  since  that  sick  moment  seems, 
Whence  never  any  waking  hour  affords 

Release   from   days  far   worse   than  night's  worst 
dreams. 


67 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH 


Ah,  still  even  strangers'  lips  renew 

The  magic  of  your  name  ! 
Last  night,  when  some  one  spoke  of  you, 

I  felt  my  blood  turn  flame. 


Your  fair  friend  said,  "  Tho'  so  besought, 

And  so  admired,  how  free 
From  vanity,  how  pure  in  thought, 

And  true  in  deed,  is  she  ! 

V  2 


MA  RAH 

3 
"Her  soul's  ev'n  fairer  than  her  face. 

Do  you  not  think  so  too  ?  " 
And  with  beatified  grimace 

I  lied,  and  said,  "  I  do." 


69 


THE   ONL  Y  DIFFERENCE 


I  deem'd  you  truest  of  the  true, 

And  loved  you.     Now  I  see 
That  you  were  treacherous  thro'  and  thro', 

And  love  you  still,  woe's  me  ! 


The  only  difference  is  this  : 
The  gilt  is  off  the  chain, 

And  what  was  once  a  golden  bliss 
Is  now  an  iron  pain. 


7o  MA  RAH 


ONE  ROSE 


My  blessing  on  you,  roses,  all  save  one  ! 

Curst  be  the  blood-red  rose  she  used  to  wear 
In  those  fierce  summers  that  have  slain  my  sun, 

To  lure  love  to  her  bosom  and  her  hair  ! 


The  past's  spent  torments  does  that  rose  renew. 

Hot  from  my  heart  its  hated  petals  take 
The  blood  that  gives  them  their  ensanguined  hue, 

And  all  my  life  is  paler  for  its  sake. 


71 


BY  THE    GATES   OF  HELL 

I 

Where  the  shadow  of  darkness  darkest  fell 
In  the  Valley  of  Tears,  by  the  Gates  of  Hell, 

T  was  'ware  of  an  old  man,  wan  as  a  ghost. 
He  was  bitterly  weeping  :  and  there  for  years, 
By  the  Gates  of  Hell,  in  the  Valley  of  Tears, 

tie  had  wept  and  wept  for  a  loved  one  lost. 

2 

"  Be  consoled  !  "  I  said.     "  For  the  Gates  of  Hell 
Thou  hast  pass'd  not  yet,  and  the  griefs  that  dwell 

In  the  Valley  of  Tears,  be  they  ne'er  so  sore, 
Yet  by  little  and  little  they  pass  away, 
And  by  little  and  little  there  comes  a  day 

When  the  day  that  was  is  a  grief  no  more." 


72 


MARAH 


3 
"  I  have  pass'd  thro'  worse  than  the  Gates  of  Hell, 
And  I  know,"  he  said,  "that  for  those  'tis  well 

Who  are  weeping  the  loved  one  lost  by  death. 
For  by  little  and  little  their  grief  goes  by, 
And  the  dead  are  forgot,  and  the  living  will  die, 

And  a  hope  still  lingers  the  grave  beneath. 

4 
But  as  bitter  and  fierce  as  the  pangs  of  Hell 
(For  there  is  not  a  hope  in  their  long  farewell) 

Are  the  tears  that  are  shed,  on  no  grave  that's  seen 
For  the  loss  of  a  loved  one  lost  by  life. 
And  each  tortures  the  heart,  like  a  burning  knife, 
With  the  trace  of  a  day  that  in  vain  has  been." 


73 


X 


WHEN  ALL  IS  O  VER 


When  you  and  I  are  dead,  when  all  is  over, 
Life's  long  confusions  clear'd,  love's  trials  past, 

The  truth,  they  hid  and  hurt,  will  you  discover, 
And  know  and  understand  me  at  the  last  ? 
When  all  is  over  ! 


And  will  you  then  be  sad  for  all  I  suffer'd? 

\  ou,  to  whose  trusted  hand's  mistrustful  blow 
This  poor  wrong'd  heart's  defenceless  fondness  offer'd 

-     safe  a  mark  !     Will  you  be  sad  to  know 
The  pain  it  suffer'd  ? 


74  MARAH 

3 
If  so,  perchance  what  might  have  been,  and  was  not, 

You  then  will  honour  more  than  what  has  been  ; 
And  life,  when  lost,  will  have  what  now  it  has  not, 
Your  wish,  at  least,  that  its  set  suns  had  seen 
The  day  that  was  not. 

4 
That  was  not,  but  that  would  have  been,  my  dearest, 

Had  you  had  faith  in  it,  or  faith  in  me  ! 
For  that  day's  dawn,  tho'  long  delay'd,  was  nearest 
Just  when  you  chose  that  it  should  never  be 
Our  day,  my  dearest. 

5 
If,  even  when  all  is  over,  still  you  never 
Will  know  or  understand,  then  must  I  pray 


WHEN  ALL   LS   OVER  75 

That  death  be  one  long  dreamless  sleep  forever, 
If  more  than  now  you  know,  you  never  may, 
Still  never,  never  ! 

6 

/      But  if  you  know  at  last,  and  sigh  to  know  it 
Too  late,  that  sigh  will  all  my  pain  requite. 
Better  too  late  than  never  !     Could  death  show  it. 
I  think  'twould,  even  then,  set  all  things  right 
To  know  you  know  it. 


Ill 


If  thou  art  still  a  griefless  girl  or  boy, 

In  love  with  life,  and  ignorant  of  love's  grave, 

Read  not  herein  !     For  thee  no  gift  have  I, 
And  be  thou  thankful  that  no  gift  I  have  ! 


But  if  time's  wayworn  traveller  thou  art, 

Hail,  pilgrim  !     Tis  for  thee  this  book  was  writ. 

The  same  sad  pilgrimage,  tho'  far  apart, 

We  two  have  made,  and  know  the  pain  of  it. 


79 


LIFE 

What  is  life  ?  The  incessant  desiring 
Of  a  joy  that  is  never  acquired  ; 

And,  instead  of  that  joy,  the  acquiring 
Of  enjoyments  that  are  not  desired. 


So  MARAH 


SEMPER  EADEM 


The  years  go  by.  They  bring  no  change,  but  only 
The  curse  of  custom,  adding  length  to  grief, 

And  pressure  to  the  crowd  that  makes  more  lonely 
The  lone  heart's  changeless  longing  for  relief. 


Relief  from  wretched  memories  of  things  lost, 
Relief  in  words  that  find  no  utterance  now, 

Relief  from  dead  love's  still  undying  ghost, 
Relief  in  tears  that  long  have  ceased  to  flow 


SEMPER  EADEM 

3 
O  could  I  weep,  weep,  weep  away  this  weight 

Of  tearless,  time-worn,  inarticulate  pain, 
Whose  heavy  burden  no  blest  hopes  abate  ! 

O  for  release,  rest,  death  !     In  vain,  in  vain  ! 


S2  MARAH 


FIRELIGHT 


A  feeling  to-night  comes  o'er  me 
That  once  in  this  hearth's  dim  gleam 

I  was  happy  beyond  all  dreaming, 
But  it  may  have  been  only  a  dream. 


A  dream  or  a  memory  is  it, 

That  here  in  the  same  soft  glow- 
Two  entranced  ones  nestled  together, 
And  that  I  was  one  of  the  two? 


FIRELIGHT 


3 

I  seem  to  remember  a  gladness 
That  haunted  of  old  this  spot. 

But  was  it  mine  or  another's  ? 
Ah,  that  I  remember  not  ! 


ij  i 


84  MARAH 


GHOSTS 


We  died,  she  and  I,  the  same  day.     That  I  know  ; 

Tho'  we  died,  I  remember  not  when  ; 
But  together  we  died  ;  and  I  cannot  guess  how 


We  are  here  with  the  living  again. 


We  ought  to  be  both  in  our  graves  :  and  this  much 

I  can  tell  by  the  shuddering  thrill 
That  a  dead  corpse  feels  at  the  casual  touch 

Of  a  corpse  more  inanimate  still. 


GHOSTS  S5 

3 
But  spells  we  obey,  and  are  bound  by  their  guile, 

Dead  and  gone  tho'  we  be,  to  contrive 
For  the  sake  of  appearance  to  chatter  and  smile, 

And  pretend  to  be  feeling  alive. 

4 
I  know,  little  friend,  tho'  defunct,  you  can  do 

With  the  smallest  allowance  of  rest. 
'Twas  the  joy  of  your  life  to  be  seen,  and  to  go 

About  everywhere,  daintily  dress'd. 

5 
You  never  were  glad  to  get  early  to  bed  ; 

And  this  constantly  gadding  about, 
As  you  liked  it  alive,  may  have  charms  for  you  dead. 

But  for  me — it  is  wearing  me  out  ! 


86  MA  RAH 


Do,  dear,  for  the  sake  of  the  days  that  are  gone, 

Put  me  back  in  my  coffin  and  pall  ! 
Nothing  black  for  my  burial  need  you  put  on, 

Nor  be  miss'd  from  the  liveliest  ball. 

7 
From  asking  the  living  to  lend  me  a  hand 

To  get  back  to  my  grave,  I  refrain  ; 
For  I  fear  lest  the  living  should  misunderstand 

What  'tis  hard  for  the  dead  to  explain. 

8 

But  you  are  as  little  alive,  dear,  as  I. 

And  I  have  not  a  sister  or  brother 
To  vouchsafe  me  this  service.     Nor  can  you  deny 

That  the  dead  have  a  claim  on  each  other. 


87 


NUNC  STA.XS 


Ah,  the  dead  they  may  bury  their  dead, 

The  unborn  bring  to  birth  their  unborn, 
But,  ere  life's  flitting  minute  be  fled, 

Let  us  live,  and  laugh  sorrow  to  scorn  ! 


Past  and  Future,  the  permanent  stati 
Of  the  fugitive  Present,  fleet  I 

With  its  flight,  that  in  flying  creates 
The  fixt  forms  of  the  Future  and  Past. 


88  MARAH 

3 
Borne  along  in  its  boundless  embrace, 

The  brief  moments  the  centuries  span  ; 
And  thro'  time,  as  his  shadow  thro'  space, 

Does  the  Present  accompany  man. 


89 


PER  VERSITY 

Restless,  unthankful,  in  a  heaven  all  shining 
With  lights  serene  my  fever'd  spirit  doth  dwell  ; 

And  wild  thro'  Paradise  it  wanders,  pining 
For  the  hot  feasts  of  Hell. 


9o  MA  RAH 


HA UNTED 

For  years  (How  many  years  ?    To  me  they  seem'd 

Hundreds  of  thousands.     With  eternity 
Of  torment  every  moment  of  them  teem'd  !) 

The  all-enduring  slave  of  Pain  was  I. 
At  last,  this  servitude  to  suffering  grew 

Grievous  beyond  endurance.     I  arose, 
And  in  revolt  my  tyrant,  Pain,  I  slew. 

A  secret,  dark,  and  hollow  spot  I  chose 
Among  the  ruin'd  places  of  the  past, 

And  buried  murder'd  Pain  there.     Then  I  went 
Forth,  an  emancipated  slave  at  last, 

And  mingled  with  the  world,  and  was  content, 


HAUNTED  91 

And  feasted,  arid  made  merry  ;  laughing,  "This 

Is  life,  and  life  is  beautiful  again  !" 
But  in  mid-revel  I  began  to  miss 

Something  which  I  had  buried  with  dead  Pain. 
I  knew  not  what  :  but  for  the  want  of  it 

I  could  not  take  my  pleasure  as  before 
In  pleasant  things.     A  shadow  secm'd  to  flit 

Beside  me,  always  sighing,  "  Nevermore  !  " 
So  from  the  revellers  I  stole  away 

1  [omeward.     And  here  upon  my  hearth  I  found 
A  Spectre  sitting.     It  was  husht,  and  grey, 

And  ghastly.     Its  dim  hooded  brows  were  bound 
With  poisonous  nightshade.     A  cold  hand  it  laid 

Upon  me.     My  soul  sicken'd.     Helplessly 
!      oan'd,  "  What  art  thou?  "  and  the  Spectre  said, 

"The  ghost  of  Pain,  whose  name  is  now  Ennui  !  " 


92  MARAH 


EPISODE 


I  love  thy  body  better  than  thy  soul. 

I  love  thy  beauty  better  than  thy  heart. 
To  me  the  part  is  dearer  than  the  whole 
Of  all  thou  art. 


For  our  lips  naturally  meet :  but  not 

Our  natures,  not  our  thoughts.     Far,  far  from  thine 
My  spirit  wanders  lone.     Thy  heart  hath  got 
No  key  to  mine. 


EPISODE  93 

3 

And  'tis  adultery  I  commit  with  thee  : 

For  to  another  woman  I  am  wed  ; 
Tho',  save  in  dreams,  her  face  I  shall  not  see 
Till  I  am  dead. 

4 
We  miss'd  each  other  in  the  porch  of  Birth, 

And  there  took  different  ways  :  mine  earthward  set 
And  hers  I  know  not  whither.     But  on  earth 
We  have  never  met. 


94  MARAH 


LIES 

Ah,  let  me  gaze  still  silent  in  those  eyes, 

Nor  ask  me  what  my  soul  is  seeking  there  ! 

Tho'  all  that  there  is  sought  and  found  be  lies, 

If  you  and  I  on  their  false  witness  swear 

Our  love  is  love  forever,  were  it  wise 

To  test  a  fraud  that  is  for  both  so  fair  ? 

Faith  in  it  turns  to  treasures  that  I  prize, 

The   faint   scent    breathing   from    your   fawn-brown 

hair 
And  foam-white  throat ;  the  subtle  mysteries 
Of  mellow  shadow  that  have  each  its  lair 


LIES  95 

In  your  lip's  dimple  ;  or  the  rose  that  dies 

Along   your   cheek's   smooth   curve  ;    and    the    rich 

air 
Haunted  with  flutterings  of  entranced  surprise 
Round  the  warm  edges  of  white  vesture  where 
Those  shy  feet  peep.     Nor  are  the  sorceries 
Of  this  sweet  fraud  mine  only.     For  you  share 
The  fervid  fascinations  that  arise 
From  wishes  sure  to  wither  if  it  were 
Too  soon  mistrusted.     Love's  grand  tragedies 
Leave  we,  with  all  the  pomps  of  their  despair, 
To  souls  heroic  !     Why  should  we  despise 
(We,  whose  hearts  unheroically  care 
More  for  the  moments  than  the  eternities) 
Even  the  least  of  little  joys,  whate'er 
Their  source,  that  flush  one  minute  as  it  flies 
With  radiant  fervours  of  effulgence  rare? 
And  if  fond  fancies  aid  them  to  disguise 


96  MA  RAH 

Their  fleeting  earthliness  in  forms  that  wear 
The  hues  of  heaven  (like  wavelets,  distant  skies 
Paint  as  they  pass),  need  fretful  forethought  tear 
From  their  poor  wings  those  borrow'd  pageantries? 
What  if  some  thunder-cloud  soon  quench  the  flare 
Wherewith  Desire's  small  bonfires  humanise 
One  spot  in  the  wide  desert,  whence  they  scare 
The  savage  beast  ?     No  star  whose  beam  supplies 
Guidance  or  light,  along  the  dark  we  dare 
In  blind  pursuit  of  unknown  destinies, 
Will  perish  with  it.     Nor  does  Fate  declare 
Her  will  beforehand,  tho'  besought  with  sighs, 
And  groans,  and  tears,  and  supplicative  prayer. 
A  miser's  thrift  is  in  each  mad  surmise 
That  starves  the  present  for  the  thankless  heir. 
Who  knows  what  plagues  the  future  may  devise 
For  those  whose  craft  its  blessings  would  ensnare  ? 
Life's  end  may  be  to-night.     The  hour  that  hies 


LIES  97 

Is,  while  it  lasts,  life's  all.     So,  if  I  swear 
I  love  you,  ask  not  what  the  oath  implies, 
But  swear  you  love  me  also.     We  should  fare 
No  better  for  the  doubts  that  oath  defies. 
How  sad  were  life,  if  bitter  truth  went  bare  ! 
And  what  were  love  itself  without  such  lies  ? 


ii 


9S  MARAH 


LOVE'S  LABOUR   LOST 

i 

In  the  old  Piazza  at  Florence  a  statue  of  David  stands, 
"lis    the    masterful    work    of    Michael    Angelo's 
marvellous  art, 
Yet  a  failure  nevertheless  :  for  it  came  to  the  master's 
hands, 
Not  a  virgin  block  intact,  but  already  rough-hewn 
in  part. 

2 

And  what  Mino  da  Fiesole  did  to  it,  Angelo  could  not 
undo. 
So  the  work  was  but  half  his  own.    It  is  finish'd,  yet 
incomplete. 


LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST 


99 


As  that  statue  to  Michael  Angelo  hundreds  of  years 
ago, 
So  are  you  at  this  moment  to  me  :  an  achievement, 
and  yet  a  defeat  ! 

3 
Tis  that  others  have  been  before  me,  of  whose  touch 
you  retain  the  trace. 
You  are  half  my  work,  half  theirs.    Thro'  your  spirit 
and  flesh  disperst 
Is  the  mark  of  a  love  not  mine,  that  my  own  love 
cannot  efface. 
For  you  were  not  virgin  marble  when  you  came  to 
my  hands  at  first. 


II  2 


ioo  MAE  AH 


HORACE  AND  LYDIA 

{Modern.) 

He 
You  ask  me,  "  Do  I  love  you  ?  "     Yes. 

"  What  grace  in  you  my  worship  wins?" 
None.     "  Why,  then,  do  I  love  you  ?  "     Guess  ! 

Why  does  the  sinner  love  his  sins  ? 
The  drunkard  his  habitual  dram  ? 

The  gambler  counters,  cards,  and  dice  ? 
A  slave  to  vicious  wants  I  am, 

And  you  are  my  inveterate  vice. 

She 
Impertinent  ! 


HORACE  AND  LYD1A  IOi 


He 


For  truth  you  call, 
Truth,  and  truth  only.     My  reply, 
Tho'  it  offend  you 

She 

Not  at  all ! 

He 

Was,  every  word  of  it ■ 


She 

A  lie  ! 

He 

No  ! 

She 

Yes  !     For  all  of  flaming  fire 
Your  fancy  is,  your  heart  all  ice. 


IC2  MARAH 


He 


Granted.     That  means  that  my  desire 
Is  vicious  ;  you,  its  object,  vice. 

She 

No.     It  means  only,  thankless  friend, 

That  your  desire  has  flights  insane, 
And  I,  beyond  whose  reach  they  tend, 

Know  that  the  goal  they  seek  is  vain. 
Your  dupe  I  am  not.     You  deceive 

Yourself,  it  may  be,  but  not  me, 
When  you  aver,  perhaps  believe, 

You  love  me.     Ah,  but  you  would  be 
As  little  to  my  liking  then 

As  all  the  others  are,  if  you 
(In  nothing  else  like  other  men) 
Did,  or  could,  love  me  as  they  do  ! 


HORACE  AND  LYDIA  103 

You  do  not  love  me.     I  suggest 

Love  fancies.     Each  for  each  is  full 
Of  riddles  that  remain  half  guess'd. 

And  doubt,  at  least,  is  never  dull. 
You  ought  to  feel,  could  you  but  share 

My  wisdom,  thankful  I  am  not 
The  woman  that  you  wish  I  were. 

To  take  delight  in  such  a  lot 
As  your  caprice  for  love  provides, 

A  woman  should  be  either  blind 
And  a  born  innocent  besides, 

Or  else  of  a  perverted  mind- 
Like  me  !     Who  deign  with  cheerfulness 

To  be  the  subject,  tho'  I  know- 
That  of  your  singular  caress 

I  never  was  the  object.     No  ! 
There  lives  no  woman  you  could  love 

Fairly,  for  love's  sake  :  tho'  from  each 


104  MARAH 

You  crave  in  turn  what  soars  above, 
Or  fleets  beyond,  a  woman's  reach. 

Ay,  and  a  man's  reach,  too  !     For  this 
Ferocious  idol,  this  Afar, 

This  phantom  fetish,  from  a  kiss 
Could  never  yet  create  a  star  ! 

He 

True.     All  its  miracles  require 
The  faith  of  two  believers.     One 

Suffices  not.     And  I  aspire 
In  vain,  for  I  aspire  alone. 

Our  aims  accord  not.     Mine,  that  was 
High  to  uplift  us  both,  has  fail'd. 

Yours  was  to  drag  me  down.     Alas, 

And  it  is  yours  that  has  prevail'd  ! 


HORACE  AND  LYDIA  105 

She  > 

To  drag  you  down  !     You  found  me  here 

Where  you  were  glad  to  find  me,  I 
To  welcome  you.     My  natural  sphere 

I  keep.     Its  hospitality 
You  sought,  and  all  ungrudged  'twas  given  ; 

Nor  did  you  spare  the  proffer'd  feast. 
If,  just  because  earth  is  not  Heaven, 

I  make  the  best  of  earth,  at  least 
For  the  best  gift  earth  has  to  give 

Let  us  be  thankful  !     Me  you  blame, 
And  you  I  tease  ;  yet  we  contrive 

To  charm  each  other  all  the  same. 
Earth's  child  am  I,  for  Heaven  unfit. 

But  I  deserve  some  earthly  praise 
For  kindliness,  good  looks,  and  wit, 

Altho'  not  wings  I  wear,  but  stays. 


io6  MARAH 

All  my  past  lovers  I  have  spoil'd 
For  other  women.     Here  on  earth 

You  will  not  find  my  better.     Foil'd 
Beforehand,  seek  !     I  know  my  worth. 

After  me,  nothing  !     Search  all  round, 
What  is  there  left  to  find  ? 

He 

What  they, 
The  Poet  and  the  Sage,  have  found  : 
The  Abstract  ! 

She 

Has  the  Abstract,  pray, 
Lips,  limbs,  and  life  ?     You  will  but  find 

Another  woman,  and  a  worse, 
With  faults  as  little  to  your  mind, 

Tho'  not  the  same  as  mine,  of  course. 


HORACE  AND  LYDIA  107 

He 

I  came  into  your  life  too  late, 

And  found  you  thus,  completely  made. 
I  needs  must  either  love  or  hate 

The  thing  you  are  without  my  aid. 
\nd  I  would  be  a  maker. 

She 

Friend, 

Nature  would  be  beforehand  still 
With  all  your  work.     Defeats  attend 

The  usurpations  of  her  will. 
Perfection  clothed  in  petticoats 

Is  youth's  Chimsera.     This  sad  truth 
Your  poets  sing  in  mournful  notes, 

Your  sages  preach.     The  fault  of  youth 


10S  MARAH 

Is  always  to  exaggerate, 

And  therefore  miss  the  mark.     Between 
Life's  two  extremes,  in  me  kind  Fate 

Accords  you  now  the  golden  mean. 
If  one  you  found  with  warmer  blood 

Than  mine  is,  she  would  be  less  fair. 
Another's  milk-white  maidenhood 

Would  lack  intelligence.     Beware  ! 
To  us  complacent  circumstance 

Is  well  disposed.     Our  fates  are  free. 
And  I  would  be  your  last  romance, 

As  you  are  my  first  poem.     See  ! 

He 

Ah,  sceptic,  cease  !     I  can  nor  fight 
Nor  fly  the  field.     Your  lips  and  eyes 

Disarm  my  reasonings.     You  are  right, 
And  they  are  wrong.     Be  yours  the  prize 


HORACE  AND  LYDIA  109 

That  Pallas  ever  fails  to  win  ! 

Lay  your  hand  on  my  heart  once  more  ! 
What  is  it  beats  so  wild  within, 

If  love  it  be  not? 

She 

Shut  the  door  ! 


no  MAR AH 


FUGIENS  IMAGO 

i 
I  have  seen  her,  O  how  often  I  have  seen  her,  but  to 
see 
Her  mysterious  evanescence,  at  a  glance,  a  touch,  a 
tone, 
And  how  often,  O  how  often,  has  my  heart  exclaim'd, 
"  Tis  she  !  " 
When,  in  turning  to  embrace  her,  I  discover'd  she 
was  gone  ! 

2 
Gone  as  soon  as  greeted  !     Lost  as  soon  as  found  ! 
And  then  again 
All  the  search  for  her  to  recommence,  discouraged, 
otherwhere  ! 


FUGIENS  IMAGO  ru 

All  the  doubt,  "  Will  not  the  next  search,  as  the  last 
was,  be  in  vain  ? 
Was  it  she  herself,   or  only  a  mirage  of  painted 
air  ?  " 


Nay  !  I  could  not  be  mistaken,  could  not  see  her  and 
not  know, 
Could  not  take  for  her  another  !     I,  whose  life  has 
all  been  pass'd 
In  predicting  her  arrival,  be  its  coming  ne'er  so  slow, 
And  rejoicing  in  her  presence,  be  its  going  ne'er  so 
fast  ! 

4 

In  the  moment  that  I  saw  her,  she  was  there.     This 
much  is  sure. 
All  the  rest  may  be  illusion  ;  all  the  time  that  went 
before, 


ii2  MAR  AH 

All  the  time  that  follow'd  after  !     For  'tis  falsehoods 
that  endure, 
It  is  truth  that,  coming,  going,  lasts  a  moment  and 
no  more. 

5 
She  is  gone,  and  I  have  lost  her  !     Yet  a  little  while 
ago 
She  was  there  ;  and  for  a  moment  in  your  eyes  I 
saw  her  smile, 
In  your  voice  I  caught  her  accents,  on  your  lips  I 
felt  the  glow 
Of  her  kiss,  and  I  am  certain  she  was  there,  tho' 
but  a  while. 

6 
Had  you  recognised  her  also,  had  you  known  her  as 
I  knew, 
It  had  then  been  well  for  both  of  us.     But,  thro' 
some  fault  in  each, 


FUG  TENS  IMAGO  113 

Now  the  search  for  her,   you  cannot  aid,  must  all 
begin  anew, 
And  the  moment  we  retain'd  not  is  already  out  of 
reach. 

7 
Hush  !     No  vain  recriminations  !     Life  has  years  to 
count  upon, 
But  for  love  are  moments  only.     Love,  that  all  the 
whiles  between,  - 

Looking  forward  to  their  coming,  or  recalling  them 
when  gone, 
Bears  two  names  :  the  one,  "  I  shall  be  !  "  and  the 
other,  "  I  have  been  !  " 


II4  MAR  AH 


STILL  ! 


I  have  invok'd  with  songs,  and  sued  with  tears, 
A*love  still  unresponsive  to  my  call. 

To  find  it,  I  have  roam'd  the  waste  of  years  ; 
To  win  it,  spent  my  all. 

2 

Yet  still  do  I  believe  in  it,  still  cherish 

An  unrequited  faith,  and  in  the  fume 
Of  fires  unblest,  that  on  its  altars  perish, 
Life's  substance  still  consume  ; 


STILL  US 

3 
Like  some  poor  alchemist,  whose  days  have  pin'd 

In  bondage  to  bright  dreams  that  but  betray'd, 
Still  raking  ruin'd  crucibles  to  find 

The  gold  he  never  made. 


I  2 


n6  MAR AH 


SELENE 


White  Moon,  forth-pouring  floods  of  pallid  fire 
From  founts  that  leave  thy  sallow  orb  forever 
Ravaged  and  sear'd,  and  worn  with  wan  desire, 
But  fervid  never  ! 


Bless  the  pale  pleasures  of  my  love  and  me, 

Whose  day  of  life,  like  thine,  is  the  dark  night  ! 
From  all  the  world  I  have  chosen  one  like  thee 
For  my  delight. 


SELENE  117 

% 

No  burning  pulse  her  livid  beauty  warms. 

But  light  that  maddens  the  moon-stricken  brain 
Is  in  her  looks,  and  in  her  cold  white  arms 
Are  dreams  insane. 

4 
Like  thine  her  chill  enchantments  !     And  like  thine 

My  wistful  vigils  !     And  of  all  we  are, 
Each  to  the  other,  the  sidereal  sign 
Is  thy  weird  star. 

* 

s 

Hushful,  as  o'er  the  bosom  of  the  deep 

Thou  bendest,  all  night  long  I  bend  above 
The  soul  that  in  her  beauty  lies  asleep, 
Dreaming  of  love. 


iiS  MARAH 

6 

Dreaming  of  love,  not  loving  !     Laid  in  trance 

That  waits  the  awakening  touch  of  some  caress 
Not  yet  divined  for  its  deliverance, 
And  still  to  guess. 

7 
Guide  with  the  ghostly  lamp's  soul-reaching  ray, 

Desire's  meandrous  labyrinths  among, 
My  slow  sweet  search,  enamour'd  of  delay,. 
And  lingering  long  1 

8 

My  slow  sweet  search  that  dreads  yet  craves  the  goal 

It  seeks  by  ways  bewilderingly  dense 
With  dim  delights,  whose  languors  lap  the  soul  J 
In  charm'd  suspense  ! 


SELENE  119 

9 

She  whom  I  love  has  from  the  dawn  of  time 

Been  love's  despair.     All  pleasure  and  all  pain 
Her  breath  begets.     All  virtue  and  all  crime 
Are  her  domain. 

10 

Her  intricate  charm  is  like  a  magic  maze, 
Whose  central  secret  never  can  be  found 

4 

By  any  of  the  interminable  ways 
That  wind  it  round. 

11 

The  perilous  realms  of  Unreality 

Her  witchcraft  rules.     And  my  pale  paramour 
Fills  all  their  phantom  forms,  from  her  faint  sigh, 
With  strenuous  power. 


120  MAR  AH 

12 

Fierce  are  the  Solar  Daughters  of  the  South, 

Faint,  and  a  Lunar  Witch,  my  leman  is. 
The  North's  lone  mystery  lingers  on  her  mouth, 
And  chills  her  kiss. 

n 

The  sun  is  in  their  veins,  as  in  the  vine  : 

The  moon  in  hers,  as  in  a  sorcerer's  cruce, 
Has  mingled  dews  and  dreams.     Their  blood  is  wine 
Hers,  morphian  juice. 

14 

And  I  have  drunk  of  it.     And  in  her  eyes 
I  have  beheld,  and  on  her  lips  pursued, 
Passion's  most  mystical  epiphanies  3 
With  faith  renew'd 


SELENE  121 

15 

In  the  voluptuous  chastities  of  vice — 
Virginities  of  sin  in  joys  restrain'd, 
Fruits  of  the  imperishable  paradise 
Of  the  Unattain'd  ! 


122  MA  RAH 


TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES 


On  my  road  at  the  dawn  of  day 
Joy  accosted  me,  passing  me  by. 
We  were  both  of  us  going  one  way  ; 
But,  alas,  he  went  faster  than  I, 
And  in  vain  I  besought  him  to  stay. 


"  Prithee  speed  not,"  I  panted,  "  so  fast, 
Fellow-traveller  !     Fain  would  I  be 


TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES  12; 

Thy  companion,  and  share  to  the  last 
The  long  course  of  my  journey  with  thee  !  " 
Never  pausing,  however,  he  pass'd. 


3 

"  We  can  fare  not  together,"  he  cried, 

"  Any  farther.     But  do  not  despond  ! 

We  may  meet  yet  again."     And  I  sigh'd, 

"  Where  again  may  I  meet  thee  ?  "   "  Beyond  !  " 

Joy,  pointing  his  finger,  replied. 


"  A  remembrance,"  he  murmur'd,  "  meanwhile 
(Tis  the  best  that  my  passage  bestows) 
I  bequeath  thee,  sad  days  to  beguile." 
And  he  flung  me  a  half-wither'd  rose  ; 
And  was  gone  with  a  nod  and  a  smile. 


124  MA  RAH 


On  I  went,  till  the  noon  had  wax'd  hot. 
Then  I  came  to  a  blossoming  grove. 
There,  alone  in  a  flowery  spot, 
I  was  suddenly  greeted  by  Love. 
But  I  trembled,  and  answer'd  him  not. 


For  his  face  was  the  face  of  a  stranger, 

And  I  seem'd  to  myself  to  be  there 

A  forbidden  and  trespassing  ranger. 

And,  beholding  Love's  weapons,  "  Beware  ! " 

Said  my  heart  to  me.     "  Here  there  is  danger." 


TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES  125 


But  the  whisper  of  Love  was  so  sweet, 
And  the  spell  of  his  beauty  so  strong, 
And  with  welcome  so  warm  did  he  greet, 
And  so  tenderly  drew  me  along, 
That  I  fell  down  faint  at  his  feet. 


8 

Merry  butterflies  hither  and  thither 
Were  a-wooing.     Sweet  birds  caroll'd  clear, 
All  around,  it  was  midsummer  weather. 
And  I  said,  "This  is  Paradise  !     Here 
Let  us  linger  forever  together !  ' 


126  MA  RAH 


With  a  frown  Love  averted  his  face, 
And  his  voice  took  a  menacing  tone, 
As  he  struggled  to  break  mine  embrace, 
Crying,  "  Loose  me,  for  I  must  be  gone  ! 
I  have  linger'd  too  long  from  the  chase." 


10 

"If  thou  leavest  me,  what  shall  I  do  ?" 
I  cried,  clinging,  imploring,  and  fond. 
"And  ah,  whither  away  wouldst  thou  go  ?  " 
Love  impatiently  answer'd,  "  Beyond  !  " 
And  the  sunshine  seem'd  turned  into  snow. 


TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES  127 


11 


"  If,"  I  wept,  "thy  last  word  has  been  spoken, 
Cruel  fugitive,  ere  thou  depart, 
Leave  me  one  little  lingering  token  !  " 
Then  he  struck  me  a  blow  at  the  heart, 
And  I  felt  in  it  something  was  broken. 


12 

I  arose,  sick,  and  faint,  and  in  pain, 
But  still,  staggering,  onward  I  went, 
Till  the  sun  was  low  down  and  the  plain 
Sad  and  cold,  and  its  colours  all  spent, 
And  the  daylight  beginning  to  wane. 


I2S  MAR  AH 


13 

Rough  and  hard  was  the  way,  tho'  down  hill ; 
And  my  feet  were  both  weary  and  sore  ; 
And  the  road  I  was  journeying  still 
Had  a  narrower  track  than  before  ; 
And  the  twilight  hung  heavy  and  chill. 


14 

Where  around  me  the  long  shadows  lay, 
And  the  path  became  doubtful  and  dim, 
I  was  met  by  a  traveller  grey  ; 
And  his  aspect  was  furtive  and  grim, 
Like  a  beast's  that  is  prowling  for  prey, 


TRAVELLING  ACQUAINTANCES  129 


15 

He  approach'd  me,  and  seized,  and  embraced, 
As  he  cried  to  me,  "  Welcome  at  last  ! 
It  is  late,  but  I  am  not  in  haste, 
And  we  too  have  no  need  to  go  fast. 
Thou  art  weary,  and  I  am  slow-paced." 


16 

"  Of  my  hand,"  I  groan'd,  writhing,  "  let  go  !  " 
For  I  neither  could  loosen  nor  bear 
The  cold  pressure  of  his.     But,  "Ah,  no  !  " 
The  grey  traveller  said.     "  I  am  Care. 
Love  and  Joy  have  gone  from  thee,  I  know. 


K 


130  MARAH 

17 

But  my  fingers  hold  faster,"  said  he, 
"Than  the  bite  of  an  adamant  bond." 
"  Is  there  nowhere,  then,  refuge  from  thee  ?  " 
I  exclaim'd  in  despair.     And  "  Beyond," 
He  said  faintly,  "  perchance  there  may  be  ! " 


IV 


K  2 


I  have  search'd  the  universe,  beneath,  above, 
And  everywhere  with  this  importunate  lyre 

Have  wander'd  desperately  seeking  Love, 
But  everywhere  have  only  found  Desire. 


I  have  prob'd  the  spheres  above,  the  spheres  beneath. 

Their  dim  abysms  have  echo'd  to  my  shout 
Invoking  Truth.     But  time,  space,  life,  and  death, 

And  joy,  and  sorrow,  only  answer'd  <(  Doubt  !  " 


133 


SEA  WARD 


The  green  grows  ever  greyer  as  we  pass  ; 

The  lean  soil  sandier ;  the  spacious  air 
More  breezy  ;  raggeder  the  bristly  grass  ; 

And  the  few  crooked  leafless  trees  more  rare. 


And  now  nor  grass,  nor  trees  !     But  only  stones 

Tufted  with  patches  of  wild  rosemary 
And  spurge.     Behind  them  hidden,  something  moans  ; 

And  large  white  birds  come  with  a  questioning  cry. 


134  MA  RAH 

3 
What's    there,    beyond?    A    thing    unsearch'd  and 
strange  ; 
Not  happier,  but  different.     Something  vast 
And  new.     Some  unimaginable  change 

From  what  has  been.     Perchance  the  end  at  last  ? 


135 


NO C TURN 


Roll,  waves  !     To  rest  refused  I  too  aspire. 

Weep,  clouds  !     I  too  shed  tears  that  fall  in  vain. 
Lightnings,  illuminate  ye  my  drear  desire  ! 

Thunder,  be  thou  the  echo  of  my  pain  ! 


Black-shrouded  midnight,  shuddering  with  cold  sighs, 
And  fearful  with  faint  creepings,  gather  all 

Thy  ghosts  and  spectres  !     Bid  them  each  devise 
New  horrors  to  adorn  thy  sable  hall ! 


136  MA  RAH 


3 

Eor  the  drear  drama  the  drear  stage  prepare, 
Deck  it  with  deluge,  garland  it  with  storm, 

Assemble  all  the  Powers  of  Darkness  there, 
And  what  I  suffer  let  them  then  perform  ! 

4 
Not  long  will  they  their  fleeting  parts  sustain 

In  the  fixt  misery  I  endure  alone. 
To-morrow's  sun  will  scatter  to-night's  rain  ; 

When  comes  the  dawn  the  darkness  will  be  gone  ; 

5 
To-morrow  will  the  storm  its  force  have  spent  ; 

But  mine  will  be  to-morrow  and  to-morrow 
The  same  unutterable  discontent, 

Stung  by  the  same  intolerable  sorrow  ! 


137 


OCEAN  US 


Like  a  strong,  beautiful,  ill-used  wild  beast, 

The  Ocean,  caged  between  its  craggy  shores, 
Stretches  its  long  limbs  out,  with  panting  breast, 
And  rolls,  and  roars. 


Its  large  lair  is  for  its  large  life  too  small. 

For  here  are  the  world's  waters  all  in  one, 
And  all  the  sounds  of  all  the  nations,  all 
In  a  single  tone  ! 


138  MAR  AH 

3 
Hark  !     With  the  monstrous  murmurs  of  the  Pnyx 

Here  do  a  hundred  thousand  litanies 
From  Christendom's  cathedral  organs  mix  ; 
And  here  the  sighs 

4 
Breathed  by  a  million  breaking  hearts  are  heard  ; 
Here  the  long  roar  of  the  fierce  Roman  crowd 
Comes  rolling  Capitolian  echoes,  stirr'd 
To  response  loud 

5 
When  Caesar  graced  the  gladiatorial  show, 
And  from  the  reeking  circus  rose  to  him 
The  death-shriek  of  the  doom'd  who  died  below, 
Torn  limb  from  limb. 


OCEAN  US  139 

6 
Harken  again  !     A  whisper  from  afar, 

Faint,  but  how  fearful  !     Like  the  sighing  breath 
Of  some  plague -smitten  city,  a  red  star 
Scorches  to  death. 

7 
But  from  the  silence  the  sound  preys  upon 

It  gathers  strength,  and  breaks  into  low  thunder 
As  of  a  huge  host  heavily  marching  on, 
Laden  with  plunder. 

8 
Italy,  when  the  midnight  moons  went  down 

Long  ages  since  upon  her  dark  blue  plains, 
Heard    it,  and   shudder'd.     Heard  the   tongues    un- 
known, 

The  rumbling  wains, 


140  MARAH 

9 

The  riot  of  barbarian  vanquishers, 

The  mountains  moving  to  the  Ostian  shore 
Over  those  beautiful  bruised  limbs  of  hers, 
With  an  ominous  roar. 

10 

Ay  !     All  earth's  sounds,  on  all  earth's  waters  borne, 

Meet  here  in  dreadful  interchange.     And  over 
Ocean's  drear  bosom,  beating  wings  forlorn, 
Lost  echoes  hover. 

ii 

The  echoes  of  all  sorrows  and  all  crimes 

Suffer'd  or  perpetrated  long  ago 
In  miserable  old  remorseless  times 
Of  sin  and  woe. 


OCEANUS  141 


12 


Therefore  does  terror  haunt  thy  solitude, 

Dread  Sea  !     And  all  its  melancholy  waves 
And  mountainous  billows,  by  wild  ghosts  pursued, 
Are  wandering  graves. 

Yet  'mid  thy  moanings  multitudinous 

A  silenced  song's  pathetic  echo  floats, 
Slight  but  still  sweet.     What  is  it  moves  me  thus 
In  those  low  notes  ? 

14 
It  is  that  in  a  holier  happier  time 

The  harp  of  Orpheus  lull'd  thy  lyric  shores, 
And  thou  hast  listen'd  to  the  rhythmic  chime 
Of  Argo's  oars  : 


142 


MARAH 

It  is  that  Aphrodite's  natal  morn 

Beheld  her  borne  upon  thine  azure  breast, 
And  once  thy  furrow'd  desert,  now  forlorn, 
Was  Alcyon's  nest. 


143 


A   LOST  CHANCE 


The  glimpses  of  the  moon  with  fitful  lights, 

That   flash'd   and   fled  between  swift  cloud-drifts 
sweeping, 

Strew'd  all  the  dark  sea.     And  the  Water  Sprites 
Merrily  in  those  moony  gleams  were  leaping. 


I  saw  them,  and  amongst  them  saw  again 
The  little  Mermaid  that,  long  years  ago, 

Taught  me  sea-magic,  many  a  mystic  strain 
Of  Siren  song,  and  all  the  spells  I  know. 


144  MARAH 

3 

All  that  she  taught  me,  in  the  unmagical 
Monotonously  wakeful  world  wherein, 

Toiling  and  moiling,  I  have  wasted  all 
My  after-years  in  sadness  that  was  sin, 

4 
I  had  forgotten,  and  her  too.     But  she 

Was  looking  just  as  when  I  saw  her  last, 
Not  here,  but  by  that  other  happier  sea 

Where  we  were  playmates  in  the  painless  past. 

5 
And  when  I  saw  and  recognised  her  there, 

The  old  song,  all  at  once,  and  the  old  spell 
Came  back  to  me.     Along  the  moonlit  air 

She  sigh'd  and  beckon'd.     I  remember'd  well 


A    LOST  CHANCE  145 


The  word  I  was  to  utter  when  we  met, 
And  half  gave  voice  to  it.     But  suddenly 

A  cloud  closed  up  the  moon,  and  black  as  jet 
Became  the  solid  darkness  of  the  sky. 

7 
The  vision  vanislrd.     I  no  longer  felt 

Sure  of  the  word.     The  night  was  full  of  doubt 
And  fear.     And  I  was  conscious  that  there  dwelt 

In  its  black  bosom  secrets  not  made  out 

8 

By  any  magic  I  had  learn'd  of  old. 

So,  passive,  in  suspense  I  stood,  nor  stirr'd, 
While  o'er  my  soul  the  darkness  closed  its  hold 

As  a  hand  closes  on  a  frighten'd  bird. 

L 


146  MA  RAH 


SATURNALIA 


Hid  in  the  heaviest  dark,  a  mystery 

Within  a  mystery,  the  sea  augments 
Night's  witchcraft  with  its  shadowy  sound  ;  the  sigh 

Of  an  uneasy  silence,  that  half  vents 
In  sobs  and  gasps  the  dreadful  secrecy 
Of  its  contents  ! 


And  yet  another  mystery  haunts  the  night  : 
The  uncouth,  phantasmal,  bodiless  return 
Of  Chaos.     That  which  was  before  the  light 


SATURNALIA  i$j 

Comes  back  when  light  departs,  and  the  deep  urn 
Of  darkness  voids  confusions  infinite 
That  seethe  and  yearn. 

3 
All  spectres  now  resume  their  dim  domain. 

A  shrouded  dream  is  passing  o'er  the  deep. 
The  scatter'd  clusters  of  effaced  stars  wane 

Behind  a  livid  film.     The  shuddering  heap 
Of  waters  hoarser  breathes.     Athwart  my  brain 
Vast  shadows  sweep. 

4 
My  waking  self  sinks  from  me.     In  its  place 
There  comes  a  sense  of  preternatural  force 
Freed  from  thought's  timid  tyranny.     The  chase 

Begins.     The  phantom  bugles  blow.     To  horse  ! 
I  mount  the  Nightmare.     Fleet  thro'  time  and  space 
Speeds  our  wild  course  ! 

I.  2 


i48  MARAH 

5 
Where  are  we  hurrying,  they  and  I  ?     And  they, 
Who  are  they  ?     We  shall  find  each  other  out 
As  we  go  on,  perhaps,  and  by  the  way 

Discover  also  what  we  are  about. 
Heavens  !     Is  it  you  ?     How  came  you  here  astray 
In  such  a  rout  ? 


They  told  me  you  were  settled  down  in  life, 
Well  married,  living  far  away  from  here 

In  your  own  country,  a  good  happy  wife 
And  mother,  virtue's  model,  a  sincere 

Church-goer,  all  whose  decent  days  were  rife 
With  heavenly  cheer. 


SATURNALIA  149 

7 
Yet  here  you  are  to-night,  without  a  blush, 

Stark  naked,  riding  furious  at  my  side 
The  Devil's  own  charger  !     Foremost  in  the  push 

Of  this  fierce  crowd,  and  no  attempt  to  hide 
Your  unashamed  enjoyment  of  the  rush 
Of  our  wild  ride  ! 


Who  is  it  you  were  laughing  with  just  now 
Before  you  join'd  me?    The  tall  woman  theri 

With  the  gold  fillet  glittering  on  her  brow, 

And  those  large  long-lash'd  eyes,  and  bosoms  bare? 

What  is  it  hanging  from  her  saddle  bow- 
By  a  tress  of  hair  ? 


r5o  MAR  AH 

9 
Stay  !     Now  she  has  it  in  her  hands.     It  is 

A  dead  man's  head.     And  how  her  burning  eyes 
Gloat  on  its  horror  !     How  her  red  lips  kiss 

Those  white  ones  !     Yes,  'tis  she.     I  recognize 
Herodias.     But  you  never  told  me  this. 
Who  could  surmise 


10 

That  you  were  old  associates  ?     And  you, 

Whom  have  you  loved  to  death,  that  you  should  be 

Here  in  such  company  ?     Yon  couple,  too  ? 
She  with  the  man  asleep  upon  her  knee  ? 

Asleep,  or  dead  ?     A  nail  is  driven  thro' 
His  forehead.     See  ! 


SATURNALIA  151 


11 


With  what  still  rapture  her  white  fingers  rove 
Among  his  matted  curls,  as  low  she  bends 

Her  glowing  gaze  his  upturn'd  face  above, 
Husht  as  a  watchful  mother  when  she  tends 

Her  sick  child,  lull'd  to  sleep  with  songs  of  love  ! 
So  you  are  friends  ? 


12 


I  noticed  that  the  woman,  as  we  pass'd, 
Nodded  to  you  encouragingly.     Drums 

And  cymbals  !     Hark  !     Behind  us  prancing  fast, 
Here,  with  the  head  of  Holofernes,  comes 

Dame  Judith,  bravely  dress'd  !     And  now,  the  vast 
Black  midnight  hums 


1 52  MAR  AH 

With  a  mysterious  far-off  music.     Songs 

Unholy,  soft  lascivious  Lydian  lyres, 
Shrill  Phrygian  pipes,  and  throbbing  Scythian  gongs, 

In  wizard  concert  where,  round  monstrous  fires, 
The  redden'd  gloom  reveals  dim  dancing  throngs, 
And  loose-robed  choirs. 


14 

O  hasten  !     Hasten  !     If  we  get  not  there 
Before  the  dawn  breaks,  we  shall  be  undone  ! 

Our  steeds  flag,  and  we  still  have  far  to  fare. 
Flog  the  jade  fast  !     The  revel  has  begun. 

Faster  !     Our  names  are  call'd.     Death  and  despair  ! 
Too  late  ....  the  Sun  ! 


i5: 


PER  TURBA  TION 


Greyer  and  dimmer  grow  the  dim  grey  bounds 
Of  the  leaden  twilight,  Salter  the  sea's  breath, 
And  harsher,  angrier,  the  low  moan  that  sounds 
Yon  crags  beneath. 


The  unquiet  sea-birds  seem  unquieter, 

And  more  importunate  their  plaintive  quest. 
About  the  sullen  beach  begins  to  stir 
A  vague  unrest. 


154  MAR  AH 

3 

Sightless  has  set  the  ineffectual  sun. 

There  is  no  moon,  no  star,  no  visible  cloud. 
But  land,  and  sky,  and  sea  are  swathed  in  one 
Sepulchral  shroud. 

4 
And  now  that  shroud  is  troubled,  tho'  unrent. 

There  comes  a  menacing  movement  from  afar, 
And  sounds  as  of  a  distant  armament 
Arming  for  war. 

5 
It  is  as  tho'  the  elements — earth,  air, 

And  water — each  in  its  own  camp  aloof, 
Were  furtively  beginning  to  prepare 
And  put  to  proof 


PER  TURBA  TION  1 5  5 

6 
Each  its  own  weapons,  or  to  organize 

Each  its  own  forces,  for  some  strife  impending. 
Swift  silent  signals  for  the  winds  to  rise 
The  air  is  sending. 

7 
The  sea  is  gathering  from  the  outer  deep 

Its  heavier  waves.     Like  some  beleaguer'd  giant, 
The  land  is  setting  fast  on  cliff  and  steep 
A  front  defiant. 

8 

And  coldly,  shudderingly,  creepily. 

With  these  awakenings  of  the  torpid  pain 
Pent  in  the  pallid  land,  the  pallid  sky, 
The  pallid  main, 


156  MAR  AH 

9 
My  heart  begins  to  move  once  more,  and  be 

Again  the  battle-field  of  ghastly  hosts 
At  war  with  one  another,  and  with  me. 
Legions  of  ghosts  ! 


10 

Yet  will  the  abortive  stir  beginning  now 

Change  or  determine  nothing.     When  'tis  o'er, 
Heaven,  earth,  and  sea,  and  I,  will  all,  I  know, 
Be  as  before. 


ii 

Rest,  wretched  slaves  of  Nature,  whose  mad  zest 
Of  movement  makes  the  curse  that  you  inherit 
Harder  to  bear  !  Rest,  winds  and  waves  !  Rest,  rest, 
Perturbed  Spirit  ! 


'57 


STORM 


What  is  there  here  of  aught  experience  knows, 

Or  language  names  ?     This  movement  without  form 
Of  hideous  power  in  unproductive  throes  ? 
Storm  !     Is  it  storm  ? 


But  like  no  storm  I  have  ever  heard  of,  seen 
I'urtray'd  in  pictures,  read  about  in  books, 
Or  dream'd  in  sleep,  the  interminable  scene 
Of  sameness  looks. 


158  MAR  AH 

.    3 
There  is  no  storm-rack  visible.     There  are 
No  thunders  audible.     There  is  no  play 
Of  forkt  ethereal  fires,  no  lurid  glare, 
Nothing  but  grey  ! 

4 
Grey  everywhere,  grey  always  !     Day  and  night 
For  what  seems  ages  long  have  ceased  to  be  ; 
And  there  is  neither  darkness  nor  yet  light 
On  land  or  sea. 

5 
Nothing  but  grey  !     One  part  of  it  is  air, 

Another  water,  and  another  earth. 
But  of  all  shape  and  colour  these  three  share 
A  common  dearth. 


STORM  159 


Some  horrible  impulse  moves  the  whole  grey  mass, 

Wrapp'd  in  such  rain  as  no  resemblance  bears 
To  any  other  rain  that  ever  was. 
For  this  appears 

7 
A  firmamental  flood,  that  forward  speeds  ; 

Forward,  not  downward  ;  and  in  sheets,  not  drops  ; 
Whose  sweeping  surge  in  a  plain  course  proceeds, 
And  never  stops. 

8 

There  are  no  clouds,  but  all  is  cloudiness. 

There  are  no  winds,  but  all  the  wide  grey  sky, 
Borne  on  the  wide  grey  rain  in  mad  distress, 
[s  rushing  by. 


160  MA  RAH 

9 

There  are  no  waves,  but  all  the  wide  grey  Ocean 
Jerks  up  and  down  with  the  recurrent  thump 
Of  a  monotonous  mechanical  motion, 
In  a  livid  lump. 

10 

From  that  mechanical  motion  comes  a  groan 
As  of  some  mighty  engine-beam  or  screw, 
Renew'd  each  moment  with  no  change  of  tone. 
Mechanical  too  ! 

ii 

Mechanical,  and  yet  with  life  at  least 

Enough  in  it  to  make  its  meaningless  cry- 
More  maddening  than  all  noise  of  man,  or  beast, 
Or  enginry. 


STORM  161 


12 


Nothing,  no  single  sight  or  sound,  is  here 

Either  sublime  or  beautiful.     But  all 
Has  in  its  dull  enormity  a  drear 
Power  to  appal. 

i3 

Such  sameness  with  such  terrible  unrest, 

Such  vast  yet  uneventful  agitation, 
For  days  and  nights  have  heaven  and  earth  possess'd 
Without  cessation  ! 

14 

For  days  and  nights,  so  far  as  thought  can  tell, 

Had  day  or  night  survived  !     But  time,  like  space, 
Grown  featureless  and  undefinable, 
No  periods  trace. 

M 


162  MARAH 

When  first  I  felt  the  storm's  approach,  my  heart 

Leapt  up  and  hail'd  it,  glad  of  any  change 
From  the  cruel  calm,  and  eager  to  take  part 
In  something  strange. 

16 

The  contemplation  of  repose  and  joy 

In  Nature  soothes  not  when  the  soul  is  sore  ; 
And  to  an  aching  heart  a  smiling  sky 
Is  a  pain  the  more. 

17 

And  so  I  hail'd  a  hoped  enfranchisement 

Of   grandeur,    when    this    change   began.      Vain 
thought ! 
Great  only  in  duration  and  extent, 
And  grand  in  naught, 


STORM  163 


18 


Tis  but  a  grisly  chaos  far  and  wide 

Monopolized  by  powers  unbeautiful, 
Whose  dulness,  terribly  intensified, 
Makes  terror  dull. 

Dull  as  the  incessant  multitudinous  strife 
Of  the  social  world,  that  only  magnifies 
Each  meanness  of  the  individual  life 
To  a  monstrous  size  1 

20 

The  python  is  but  an  enormous  worm  : 

The  reptile  still  a  reptile,  large  or  small : 

The  calm  was  dreary,  drearier  is  the  storm  : 

And  that  is  all ! 

m  2 


164.  MAKAH 


DIMINUENDO 


Tired  of  the  sun,  and  all  it  shines  on  ;  tired 

Of  life's  bright  baubles  toss'd  from  hand  to  hand  ; 
Tired  of  false  joys  that  are  but  pains  desired  ; 
I  seek  a  land 


Where  sunlight  looks  like  moonlight,  and  the  days 

Like  evenings,  and  things  present  like  things  past, 
And  near  things  like  things  distant,  thro'  the  haze 
Round  all  things  cast. 


DIMINUENDO  165 

3 

There,  in  a  life  no  more  than  half  alive, 

Let  all  my  waking  hours  be  half  asleep, 
And  sleep's  self  dreamless  of  whate'er  men  strive 
To  gain  or  keep  ! 


1 66  MAR  AH 


MOONLAND 


Dim,  lonesome,  melancholy  Moonland,  hail ! 
My  tired  heart's  home  is  in  thy  lap  at  last. 
And  I  have  learn'd  to  love  thy  features  pale 
As  passions  past. 


To  me  thy  colourless  cold  sea  and  shore 

Have  grown  congenial,  and  thy  sullen  air, 
And  ghostly  winds  that  sighingly  explore 


Boughs  all  but  bare. 


MOONLAND  167 

3 

Flowers  in  thy  hueless  herbage  flourish  not. 

But  here  dwell,  hid  in  hollows  of  grey  sand, 
Dwarf  pansies  ;  and  marsh-mallow  blossoms  spot 
The  inner  land  ; 

4 
Where,  at  the  setting  of  thine  unseen  sun, 

Small  fenny  pools  gleam  out  of  the  dark  plain, 
Staring  at  night,  and  after  day  is  done 
Its  glare  retain. 

5 

Land  of  long  silences,  low  whisperings, 

And  sorrowful  lights  !     Familiar  things,  that  seem 
Themselves  elsewhere,  look  here  like  other  things, 
As  in  a  dream. 


1 68  MAR  AH 


What  are  they,  crouching  yonder,  crook'd  so  low  ? 
Mere  clumps  of  rock  their  misty  forms  may  be, 
But  wither'd  hags,  whose  wicked  trades  I  know, 
They  seem  to  me. 

7 
That  sallow  sand- drift,  where  the  shingles  halt, 

A  wasted  remnant  of  myself  appears. 
This  stagnant  tarn  has  in  its  ooze  the  salt 
Of  human  tears. 

8 

And  all  the  land  is  loaded  with  a  weight 

Of  resignation  to  some  torpid  woe. 
The  heavens  are  smileless,  the  fields  desolate, 
The  waters  slow. 


MOONLAND  169 

9 

Time  makes  not  any  effort  to  divert 

Ausrht  here  from  its  monotonous  attitude 
Of  dull  distress.     Each  feature  is  inert, 
Each  sound  subdued. 

10 

What  now  it  looks,  the  landscape  seems  to  say 
That  from  the  world's  beginning  it  has  been, 
And  that  its  league-long  lamentable  grey 
Was  never  green. 

11 

Yet  this,  too,  is  illusion,  like  the  rest  ! 

The  soil's  fixt  features  Nature's  fitful  will 
Has  changed  and  changed  :  and  the  immutablest 
Is  changing  still, 


T70  MAR  AH 

12 

Thro'  transmutations  every  moment  wrought 

By  heat  and  cold,  or  damp  and  drowth  ;  and  those 
That  in  commixture  with  my  own  sick  thought 
It  undergoes. 

For  'tis  not  only  by  the  tide-wave's  toil 

That  yonder  coast  has  been  so  scoop'd  and  hack'd, 
Not  only  rains  and  rays  that  this  lean  soil 
Have  scarr'd  and  crack'd. 

i4 

My  life's  spent  passions,  sorrows,  tears,  and  sighs 
In  the  land's  hurt  have  had  their  dismal  part ; 
And  the  chief  cause  of  its  dejection  lies 
In  my  own  heart. 


MOONLAND  171 

15 
I  know  not  how  it  was,  nor  why  it  is, 

But  well  I  know  that,  whatsoe'er  it  be, 
The  region  round  me  has  become  like  this 
Because  of  me. 

16 

Thou  know'st  it,  too,  sad  Moonland  !     That  is  why 

Thou  dost  remind  me  of  it  everywhere. 
Thy  cold  sun  has  the  gaze  of  a  grey  eye, 
Thy  sullen  air 

1-7 

The  breath  of  a  lost  presence,  miss'd  how  much  ! 

Thy  faint  winds  whisper  words  I  understand 
Too  well  !     Thy  stillness  stirs  me  with  the  touch 
Of  a  dead  hand. 


172  MAR  AH 


SELENITES 


Something  sets  trembling  all  the  stars.     A  sigh 
Stirs  the  dark  land.     The  moon  is  rising  pale. 
Slowly  a  strange  procession  passes  by 
Along  the  vale. 


All  women,  and  all  beautiful,  all  white, 

All  woebegone  !     For  many  a  thousand  years 
The  day  has  ne'er  beheld  them,  and  the  night 
Their  presence  fears. 


SELENITES  173 

3 
A  Seraph  leads  them.     But  of  fallen  state. 

His  wings  are  clipp'd,  yet  still  their  size  exceeds 

The  limbs  they  lift  not,  and  their  heavy  weight 

His  pace  impedes. 

4 

The  moon  alone  knows  what  these  women  are. 

The  sun  was  never  in  their  secrets.     They 
Know  not  each  other.     But  one  woe  they  share, 
One  fate  obey. 

5 
Whence   come   they?     Whither   are   their   footsteps 

bound? 

The  Past  forgets.     The  Future  cannot  tell. 

They  have  lost  their  place  on  earth,  and  none  have 

found 

In  Heaven  or  Hell. 


174  MAR  AH 


For  Heaven  not  good  enough,  for  Hell  too  good, 

For  life  too  loving,  and  for  death  too  dear, 
Pale  ghosts  of  passion-wasted  womanhood, 
They  wander  here, 

7 
Visible  only  to  the  tear-wash'd  eyes 

Whose  vision  mirrors  supernatural  sights. 
But  I,  the  initiated,  recognize 
The  Selenites  ! 


175 


SOMNIUM  BELLUINUM 


I  have  dream'd  a  bad  dream,  and  it  harrows  me  still 

With  a  horror  of  worse  impending. 
I  was  plodding,  persistently  plodding  up  hill, 

And  the  hill  was  a  hill  never  ending  : 


On,  I  toilfully  went  in  tenacious  pursuit 
Of  a  something  before  me  going  : 

But  if  human  it  was,  or  divine,  or  brute, 
I  had  never  a  means  of  knowing  : 


176  MA  RAH 

3 

For  I  neither  could  touch  it,  nor  hear  it,  nor  see 

Yet  I  steadily  strove  to  attain  it, 
Since  I  knew  it  was  there,  by  a  feeling  in  me 

That  sufficed,  tho'  I  cannot  explain  it. 

4 
There  was  tree  upon  tree  by  the  way  that  I  went : 

And  each  tree  was  a  female  Briareus, 
With  its  feminine  arms  about  me  bent 

In  embraces  vicious  and  various. 

5 
As  a  path  of  his  own  does  the  pioneer  cut, 

Thro'  the  prairie  his  wild  way  clearing, 
So  did  I  cut  mine  thro'  those  arms,  and  shut, 

As  I  struck  at  them,  both  eyes — fearing  ! 


SOMNIUM  BELLUINUM  177 


But  a  shriek  I  heard  as  at  each  fresh  stroke 
Thro'  a  shatler'd  embrace  I  hasten'd, 

And  was  wet  with  the  drip  of  the  blood  that  broke 
From  the  clasp  that  a  wound  unfasten'd. 

7 
And  before  I  again  look'd  up  I  knew 

That  the  thing  I  pursued  had  escaped  me. 
It  was  gone.     And  a  different  scene,  quite  new, 

The  bad  dream  I  was  dreaming  shaped  me. 

8 

For  the  hill  to  a  plain  had  dissolved  away, 
And  the  plain  had  no  mark,  no  limit, 

But  as  far  as  my  vision  could  reach  it  lay 
(Not  a  shrub  or  a  shadow  to  dim  it  !) 

N 


17S  MA  RAH 

9 

In  the  sultry  embrace  of  a  Syrian  noon  : 

And,  along  it  confusedly  streaming, 
A  profusion  of  emigrant  prodigies  soon 

Rearranged  the  bad  dream  I  was  dreaming. 

10 

'Tvvas  a  monstrous  procession.     In  front  of  it  came 
The  sleek  Basilisks,  hissing  and  sighing  : 

In  the  forehead  of  each  did  a  diamond  flame, 
And  the  Wyverns  were  after  them  flying. 

ii 

But  below  were  the  Dragons  with  three-prong'd  feet, 

And  each  Dragon  was  forty-footed, 
And  they  furrow'd  the  plain  with  the  flap  and  beat 

Of  their  tails,  and  its  sods  uprooted. 


S OMNIUM  BELLUINUM  179 

12 

In  a  merrily  gambolling  company  pass'd 
The  lithe  Leopards,  and  Ounces,  and  Lynxes  : 

Then  the  Jaguars,  Panthers,  and  Pumas :  and  last 
Came  the  beautiful  leonine  Sphinxes. 

13 
In  their  somnolent  motion  they  seem'd  to  repose  : 

Was  it  walking,  or  flying,  or  floating  ? 
Not  a  sound  from  their  paws  as  they  pass'd  me  arose 

The  approach  of  their  presence  denoting  ; 

Not  a  fold  of  their  filleted  tiars  was  stirr'd  ; 

Not  a  pulse  in  their  peak'd  breasts  flutter'd  ; 
But  as  murmuring  seas  by  a  slumberer  heard 

Were  the  mystic  enigmas  they  mutter'd. 

n  2 


i8o  MAR  AH 

15 
And  their  eyes  were  incessantly  changing  hue ; 

And  each  hue  of  them  fitfully  thrill'd  me 
With  a  different  pang.     When  those  eyes  were  blue, 

'Twas  a  passionate  longing  that  fill'd  me  ; 

16 

When  they  alter'd  to  violet,  from  them  came 

Indescribable  desolation  ; 
But  when  red,  'twas  a  frenzy  of  burning  flame ; 

And  when  black,  it  was  life's  cessation. 

i7 
The  blithe  Centaurs  cantering  came  with  a  bound, 

And  a  rattle  of  arrowy  quivers  : 
Then  a  troop  of  green  Gryphons,  golden-crown'd, 

From  the  Arimaspian  rivers. 


S OMNIUM  BELLUINUM  fiSi 

18 

There  were  two-legged  Dogs  with  the  airs  of  gods  ; 

And,  escorting  Cat-countenanced  Creatures, 
Supernatural  Apes  with  divining  rods 

And  fatidical  sinister  features  : 

19 

And  a  ponderous  phalanx,  serried  and  square, 

Of  the  man-faced  Bulls  of  Chaldea, 
Whose  bewildering  bulks  dread  embodiments  are 

Of  the  strength  of  a  dread  Idea. 

20 

From  the  back  of  each  Bull  rose  four  vast  wings 

In  a  feather'd  pavilion  arching  ; 
And  they  all  had  the  faces  of  bearded  kings  ; 

And  their  steps  were  as  mountains  marching. 


1 82  MAR  AH 


21 


But  above  the  grim  multitudes  trooping  in  herds 

Thro'  the  Syrian  sultriness  glitter'd 
A  tumultuous,  pageant  of  strange-colour'd  birds, 

And  they  hooted,  and  whistled,  and  twitter'd. 

22 

Clad  in  crimson,  and  orange,  and  azure,  and  green, 
There  were  Peacocks,  and  Parrots,  and  Loories, 

And  Flamingoes,  and  Hoopoes,  and  Fowls  obscene 
With  the  eyeballs  and  talons  of  Furies. 

23 
And  the  Hawk  and  the  Ibis  were  carrying,  both, 

Babylonian  rolls  of  papyrus  ; 
And  the  scripture  thereon  was  the  sentence  of  Thoth 

On  the  souls  of  Belshazzar  and  Cyrus. 


SOMNIUM  BELLUINUM  iSj 

24 
In  the  rear  of  the  Birds  with  a  wavering  flight 

Came  a  flock  of  Chimseras  meagre, 
And  a  squadron  of  blue-wing'd  Serpents  bright, 

With  their  forkt  tongues  flickering  eager. 

25 
But  the  Phoenix  it  was  that  commanded  the  whole, 

As  its  high  priest,  herald,  and  warder. 
In  his  beak  he  was  bearing  a  fiery  coal, 

And  it  burn'd  with  unquenchable  ardour  : 

26 

As  a  fiery  coal  had  he  made  it  to  be, 

But  I  knew  'twas  my  own  heart  burning  : 

For  I  felt  the  hot  flame  of  it  withering  me 
With  the  heat  of  an  agonised  yearning. 


1 84  MARAH 

27 

And  I  cried  to  them,  "  What  are  you  going  to  do 
With  my  heart,  all  you  prodigies  bestial ; 

For  what  sacrifice  fierce  have  you  kindled  it  so 
With  infernal  fire  ?     Or  celestial  ?  " 

28 

In  exorbitant  wrath,  when  I  cried  to  them  this, 
They  responded  aloud  and  together, 

With  an  uproar  as  tho'  from  the  riven  Abyss 
'Twere  Leviathan  rending  his  tether. 

29 

In  fuliginous  films  the  disquieted  sand 
Flew  about,  and  above,  and  beclouded 

The  insatiable  sun  ;  and  the  shuddering  land 
In  a  blood-red  pall  was  enshrouded. 


SGMNIUM  BELLUINUM  185 

3° 
For  the  Bulls  of  Chaldea  resentfully  stamp'd 

In  a  bellowing  band  :  and  up  bounded 

The  roused  Panthers  and  Pumas  :  the  Jaguars  ramp'd  : 

And  the  bows  of  the  Centaurs  resounded, 

3i 
As  their  darts  flew  about  in  the  blood-colour'd  gloom  : 

Into  rings  where  the  Dragons  contorted  : 

In  the  eyes  of  the  leonine  Sphinxes  was  doom  : 

The  Chimeras  all  whinnied  and  snorted  : 

32 
And  the  green  Gryphons  yelp'd  :  and,  like  murderous 
priests, 
In  pursuit  of  me  fast,  as  I  fled  them, 
Came    the   two-legged    Dogs  and  Cat-countenanced 
1 !  asts, 
With  the  Ape-headed  Horrors  that  led  them  : 


iS6  MARAH 

33 
And  the  Birds  and  the  Basilisks  madden'd  the  air 

With  a  horrible  screeching  and  hissing  : 
Till  at  last  I  awoke  with  a  clutch  of  despair 
At  my  heart.     But  too  late  !     It  was  missing. 


EPILOGUE 


My  songs  flit  away  on  the  wing  : 
They  are  fledged  with  a  smile  or  a  sigh 

And  away  with  the  songs  that  I  sing 
Flit  my  joys,  and  my  sorrows,  and  I. 


For  time,  as  it  is,  cannot  sta 
Nor  again,  as  it  was,  can  it  be  : 

I  Jisappearing  and  passing  away 
Are  the  world,  and  the  ages,  and  we. 


1 88  MA  RAH 

3 
Gone,  even  before  we  can  go, 

Is  our  past,  with  its  passions  forgot,1 
The  dry  tears  of  its  wept -away  woe, 

And  its  laughters  that  gladden  us  not. 

4 
The  builder  of  heaven  and  of  earth 

Is  our  own  fickle  fugitive  breath  : 
As  it  comes  in  the  moment  of  birth, 

So  it  goes  in  the  moment  of  death. 

5 
\s  the  years  were  before  we  began, 

Shall  the  years  be  when  we  are  no  more  : 
And  between  them  the  years  of  a  man 

Are  as  waves  the  wind  drives  to  the  shore. 


EPILOGUE  1S9 


Back  into  the  Infinite  tend 
The  creations  that  out  of  it  start  : 

Unto  every  beginning  an  end, 

And  whatever  arrives  shall  depart. 

7 
But  I  and  my  songs,  for  awhile, 

As  together  away  on  the  wing 
We  are  borne  with  a  sigh  or  a  smile, 

Have  been  given  this  message  to  sing- 

8 

The  Now  is  an  atom  of  sand, 

And  the  Near  is  a  perishing  clod  : 

But  Afar  is  as  Faery  Land, 
And  Beyond  is  the  bosom  of  God. 


APPENDIX 


LORD  LYTTON'S  LAST  POEM1 


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I  had  not  thought  that  severance  from  her  side 

Aught  but  a  bitter  pang  could  ever  be  ; 

Yet  this — the  first  time  flowing  seas  divide 

My  days  from  hers,  since  that  great  day  when  we 

To  one  another  all  at  once  became, 

The  sole  man  I,  and  the  sole  woman  she, 

Of  a  new  world  where  nothing  is  the  same 

As  in  the  world  that  was, — ev'n  separation 

Reveals  an  unanticipated  bliss, 

And  all  its  pains  find  more  than  compensation 

In  our  completer  intercourse.     It  is 

1  See  Freface. 


194  *  *  * 


That  for  the  first  time  also  we  can  write 

Each  to  the  other  now  without  restraint 

Or  insecurity.     JT\vas  in  the  sight 

Of  others  only  that,  while  breathing  still 

The  same  air,  and  still  treading  the  same  soil, 

We  met ;  save  rarely,  when  our  simple  skill 

Was  helped  by  some  strong  favouring  chance  to  foil 

The  dragons  of  my  heart's  Hesperides. 

And  then  the  newness  of  our  own  desires 

That  would  not  suffer  joy  to  be  at  ease, 

And  thoughts  that,  as  along  electric  wires, 

Flash'd  none  but  brief  and  broken  messages 

Because  the  stint  o'  the  costly  time  forbade 

Love's  longed-for  luxury  of  full  utterance — all 

These  interferences  with  freedom  made 

Our  meetings  marred,  and  mingled  drops  of  gall 

With  the  spoilt  honey  of  their  sweetest  hours. 

But  now  such  furtive  signs  and  hurried  hints 


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195 


Of  feelings  prison-bound  by  hindering  powers 

Find  confirmation  nothing  checks  or  stints 

In  the  full-flowing  fearless  tenderness 

Of  written  words,  wherein  the  loaded  heart 

Loosens  the  long-pent  and  importunate  stress 

Of  its  dear  burden.     Absence,  too,  presents 

A  power  (how  often  wished  !)  to  stand  apart 

A  little  while  from  this  new  past  of  ours, 

This  past  so  brief,  so  recently  begun, 

Scarce  older  than  the  rose  of  August's  bowers, 

And  yet  so  full  already  of  events, 

So  rich  in  marvels  and  in  memories  ! 

And,  thus,  released  from  time's  embarrassments, 

To  sort  and  set  in  order  one  by  one 

Its  crowded  treasures,  with  undazzled  eyes 

Their  wealth  explore  and  realise  as  true 

Those  bright  confused  experiences  that  seemed 

Whilst  still  so  all-bewilderingly  new 

o  2 


196  * 


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No  surer  than  the  sense  of  sweet  things  dreamed. 

Until,  mere  jumbled  heaps  of  gems  no  more, 

But  gem  by  gem  in  shining  sequence  spread, 

Love  in  lone  hours  may  tell  his  rosary  o'er 

Nor  miss  one  bead  from  memory's  golden  thread. 

Heart's  heart  of  mine  !     Till  life's  last  lingering  ray 

Will  it  not  light  us,  though  its  sun  be  set, 

That  day  of  days,  our  memorablest  day 

Among  the  woods  and  ruins  ?     Our  lips  met 

The  first  time  then.     'Twas  you  that  led  the  way, 

Which  only  you  of  all  our  number  knew, 

For  strangers  to  the  land  both  I  and  they. 

The  others  followed  us.     I  walked  with  you. 

And  as  we  went  you  told  me  legends  gay 

Of  the  dead  rulers  of  those  ruins  green, 

Counts  of  the  Coast  who  there  held  royal  sway 

In  the  land's  old  time.     All  breezy  bright  had  been 

The  days  till  now  ;  but  this  was  silvery  grey 


*  *  *  197 


And  soft  and  still.     The  path  you  led  us  wound 
Along  low  brambled  copses  glimmering  white 
With  giant  hemlock.     At  the  last  we  found 
A  sudden  clearing  where  the  hill  was  quite 
Unwooded.     Ruin'd  walls  were  tumbled  round 
Bare  slopes  of  grass,  and  naught  beyond  in  sight 
But  woods  whose  purple  belts  the  prospect  bound 
Beneath  us  and  about  us,  left  and  right. 
Poised  on  the  sky-line  of  a  little  mound 
You  looked  and  listened,  and  your  woodland  eyes 
Deepened,  and  from  your  lips  came  rippling  clear 
A  short  quick  laugh.     "  Our  friends  are,  I  surmise, 
Still  far  behind  us.     Let  us  wait  them  here  !  " 
You  said,  and  down  you  sat  upon  the  ground, 
And  I  beside  you.     From  the  invisible  sea 
Came  to  us  a  long  lone  melancholy  sound. 
Else,  all  was  still  ;  the  hills  the  woods  and  we ; 
Stiller  than  sleep.     I  heard  as  in  a  swound 


198  *  *  * 

My  own  heart  beat  while  side  by  side  we  sat 
So  silent.     All  your  drooping  face  was  drown'd 
In  a  rosy  glow.     You  loosed  your  mouse-grey  hat 
And  where  you  laid  it  low  upon  your  knee 
Round  it  I  tried  to  wreathe — I  know  not  what, 
Some  long  *  *  *  weed.     You  shook  your  brown 

curls  free, 
And  made  an  effort  vain  to  smoothe  them  fiat, 
And  laughed  again,  but  would  not  look  at  me. 
Then  we  began  to  talk  of  this  and  that 
In  lifeless  tones.     Our  thoughts  from  all  we  said 
And  all  the  scene  that  we  were  gazing  at 
AVere  far  away.     But  we  had  grown  afraid 
Of  silence.     You  were  plucking  tufts  of  grass, 
And  strewing  them  about  you  blade  by  blade. 
I  mused — "  How  oft  may  it  have  come  to  pass 
That  just  where  we  are  sitting  here,  we  two, 
The  ruins  round  us,  and  the  revelling  mass 


*  *  *  199 


Of  the  proud  woods  above  us  and  below, 
And  the  sea's  voice  familiar  yet  forlorn 
Heard  on  the  stillness,  others  sat  before 
In  the  unreckon'd  years  ere  we  were  born  ? 
How  often,  too,  when  we  shall  be  no  more, 
Will  others  on  the  wood-girt  hillside  here 
Again  sit  talking,  while  the  day  goes  by, 
As  we  are  talking  now — as  vainly  near, 
As  falsely  far,  with  an  inaudible  sigh 
Between  them  !     Others,  ignorant  of  our  case, 
Full  of  their  own,  and  only  moved  thereby, 
Yet  haply  moved  like  us  by  thoughts  too  dear 
For  utterance  ;  and  like  us, — at  least  like  me, 
Babbling  about  the  features  of  this  place 
Albeit  as  heedless  of  them  as  can  be  ; 
Talking  for  talk's  sake  only,  who  the  while 
Can  only  think  of " 


There  you  raised  your  face, 


200  *    *    * 


And  full  on  mine  you  turn'd  it  suddenly 

With  swimming  eyes  and  half  heart-broken  smile 

Low  murmuring  "  Only  think  of — what  ?  " 

But  I 
Was  silence-struck.     Vain  verbiage,  brought  to  bay 
Abruptly  by  the  sharp  reality, 
Grovell'd  with  inarticulate  disgrace 
Dumfounded  :  Not  a  word  more  could  I  say. 
And  shudderingly,  all  resistance  vain, 
Like  things  caught  up,  and  seized,  and  swept  away 
By  the  unconquerable  hurricane, 
We  rushed  together  with  a  faint  wild  cry, 
Closed  in  a  mute  embrace  that  present,  past, 
And  future  Love  made  boundless  to  engirth. 
How  long  did  those  transcendent  moments  last  ? 
Enough  to  metamorphose  heaven  and  earth 
And  both  our  lives,  whose  old  world  vanishing  fast 
Reveal'd  a  new  world  glowing  into  birth. 


*    *    *  201 


When  pillow'd  on  my  breast  lay,  pale,  supine, 

The  passion-tranced  submissive  loveliness 

Of  your  surrender'd  beautiful  soft  face 

Breathing  faint  bliss,  with  lips  upturn'd  to  mine 

Half  open,  lids  half  closed  ;  and  I  could  trace 

In  the  deep  languors  of  those  longlash'd  eyes, 

Reveal'd  at  last,  the  whole  pathetic  tale 

Of  all  the  martyrdoms,  the  agonies, 

The  pangs  and  rendings  such  a  soul  as  yours, 

Before  it  suffers  passion  to  prevail, 

In  its  resistance  to  the  fierce  surprise 

Of  love's  invasion,  silently  endures  ; 

Then  I  remember'd  that  throughout  it  all, 

That  time  of  dread  suspicions,  and  fierce  throes, 

And  proud  revolts,  and  warnings  augural 

Of  evil,  I,  your  poor  friend,  who  Heaven  knows 

Would,  if  he  thus  might  spare  you  love's  least  ache, 

Or  win  you  any  blessing  peace  bestows, 


202 


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Have  roll'd  in  Tophet's  flame-pits  for  your  sake, 

Must  all  that  woeful  while  have  been  by  those 

Ill-ominous  denunciators  made 

To  wear  the  semblance  of  your  worst  of  foes, 

The  man  of  whom  you  should  be  most  afraid, 

His  love,  a  wrong  your  pride  must  needs  resent, 

His  presence  your  young  life's  most  menacing 

And  deadliest  danger  :  and  yet  none  the  less, 

Even  when  your  heart  mostfear'd  that  dreaded  thing, 

The  shamed  acknowledgment  of  love's  success, 

Even  when  your  brave  soul  was  the  most  intent 

To  save  a  noble  pride  from  the  distress 

Of  arms  surrender'd  in  a  noble  strife, 

That  peerless  perfect  sense  of  justice  blent 

With  all  the  instincts  of  a  high-born  heart, 

Held  fast ;  nor  ever  did  you  stoop  to  vent 

The  trouble  that  was  torturing  your  own  life 

On  me,  the  cause  of  it.     No  peevish  start 


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Of  sudden  coldness  meant  to  mystify 

The  man  who  loved  you  ;  no  attempt  to  gain 

Respite  for  doubt  by  even  the  smallest  lie  ; 

No  unjust  word  ;  no  cruel  feminine  art 

Of  self-protection  practised  in  disdain 

Of  love's  good  faith. 


PRINTED    BY 

SPOTTISWOODE    AND    CO.,    NEW-STREET    SQUARE 

LONDON 


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